


It Matters Not To Me

by TheMostCleverBot



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood and Gore, Call of Cthulhu, Corruption, Cthulhu Mythos, Demon Deals, Demonstuck, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Succubi & Incubi, Suspense, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMostCleverBot/pseuds/TheMostCleverBot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Lalonde was warned not to tamper with the Necronomicon. However, her mind is set, and the chain of events that she will kick-start will prove to change the world as a whole. </p><p>Dave Strider is her half-brother, wondering what on Earth could have happened to his sister. The mess he's dragged into because of her actions will force him down a path of loss and dark indulgences. He will not fall alone, however, as the rest of his family and friends are made to suffer the consequences as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prelude to Madness

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Homestuck AU based around H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu lore. There will be instances of the R'lyehian language, but translations and footnotes will be made available in the end notes. This story is full of different types of monsters and Eldritch abominations, so get ready for that. It's based entirely on suspense and general creepiness, and is going to be a slow burn.
> 
>  **UPDATE:** The R'lyehian translations can now be read by hovering over the text. There will still be translations available in the end notes for mobile users.

**== > Be the Accursed Librarian**

Dim candlelight scarcely illuminated the small area shoved to the side that you sat behind, fingers near mechanically, almost agonizingly slowly moving to write in the black leather-bound journal placed off to one side. Purple eyes slowly darted to it and then back, though you never stopped writing, regardless of where your vision fell; writing, despite it being in this new language that you still haven’t even entirely grasped. Your head lazily fell into your other hand, of which the elbow was propped up onto the desk, before you slowly let your eyes come to an idle close. Your fingers moved rhythmically, and your mouth moved to speak, silently, each of the words - If you could even call them that, given how they were little more than scribbles to most people who viewed them.

Your hand raised for a moment, as your gaze curiously shifted over to the book, eyes slowly coming to a squint, half annoyed at yourself that you had ceased your writings. Head pulled off of your hand, your body moving barely to your accord over to the book. Writing hand raised, pulled close to your head as you examined it, slowly opening and closing, perhaps subconsciously making sure you were still capable of controlling your own flesh and muscle. Slowly, the pen in your hand fell, hitting the desk and then the floor, slowly rolling away. A slow, deep inhalation followed by a long sigh of disappointment. Your mood was very quickly starting to diminish; You had been in worse and worse spirits lately, though with any luck, that would soon change.

Very little noise actually escaped as you cleared your throat, a twinge of pain as your voice erupted in a very otherworldly echo. To most, it would sound as if there were three of you speaking at once, and even then, the words would warp among themselves, repeating letters and even entire words, though they made perfect sense to you.

“Mnahn’fhtaghu,” your tongue slipped over the echoing madness with difficulty, “stell’bsna n’gha.” The echo of your crazed murmurs lasted for a second or two longer than your lips and tongue actually moved, though by the end of it, your eyes opened completely, head tilting towards your library door.

“If you’ve come bearing bad news,” your voice seemed normal now, though you spoke to nobody in particular; You were, after all, alone in your building. “It would be best that you turn about and leave now. I am in no good humor to deal with petty idiocy,” the words came out, sharp and full of spite. Your head hung downwards once more, glancing to your grimoire before a hand moved to shut the accursed book.

All at once, the door to your library slammed open, the cold December air as well as a rather vast amount of snow erupting into your shelter. You, however, did not flinch, for you had known ages in advance that one of your closer colleagues and, to a certain degree, one of your better rivals was going to be arriving. The man waltzed in with a cocky stride, hands cleanly shoved in the side pockets on his white tuxedo vest. The door shut behind him without even needing to be pushed or shoved, before he began the almost painfully slow trek to your desk, paying little mind to what you could only imagine to be a near criminal amount of mud and snow. You certainly did not let your annoyance show, if you honestly had any to begin with. Your emotions, as of late, were also becoming increasingly difficult to express, even for yourself.

“H’grah’n bug - agl- ebumna,” the musings come out extremely spiteful, almost with malice towards the person walking in. Your eyes lock onto his shiny, bald head for a moment, and for a moment you consider making a comment on that as well, though you write it off as being much too childish. “Nog ph’stell’bsna n’ghft, Ep’ee.” the echoes throw throughout the room, despite your normal voice not echoing in the slightest. You flash him a small grin to his apparent confusion.

“I was not aware that you have been this versed in the tongue, Miss,” his voice came out, silky and with a vague charm that made you almost sick, and you find yourself at least a little disgusted with yourself that you’re even remotely attracted to him. He certainly would be attractive to any normal person, you suppose, but you guess you are definitely not any normal person.

Your eyes narrow, a look of great disdain and annoyance slowly encompassing your features. Your lips open for just an instance, before your emotions explode, a hand forming into a fist and slamming against the desk. The other hand moved to grab at the desk, and for a moment you believe that if it wasn’t bolted into the floor, the possibility that you might have shoved it over would likely ruin what little sanity you still hold, especially when dealing with imbeciles such as the one before you.

“Scratch,” your sentence begins, still in the odd, echoing nuance that was barely even understandable, though in definite english. “I do not have time for your games. Have you found it, or are you merely here to test my limits before I simply lose all control? I assure you, given my current mood, I would not hesitate to-”

He stops you short, answering the question you placed before your thought was even entirely finished by removing, from behind his green shirt, a large, dark brown leather bound book. One side of it had been pulled over to resemble some kind of grotesque, almost horribly painful face. At least, at first glance, you believe it to have been forcibly carved this way. The more your eyes study it, the more you slowly come to realize just what you’re looking at.

“How? Where did you...” The question started to come out of your lips, much more normal this time. Your eyes remain locked onto it, a hand slowly outstretching, though you’re not quite sure if it’s even with your own will that you’re reaching towards it. Your body would likely be shaking from fear, were you not currently so exasperated and filled with excitement all at once. Fingers slowly grasp around the spine of the book, which was surprisingly freezing cold to the touch. You guess it was likely from where he had been carrying it outside in the freezing snow, but at the same time, it almost seems natural for it to seemingly deny all warmth that could reach out to it.

“I have my ways, Miss. You should know this by now.” His velvet-like voice slowly pours from his lips, echoing about as yours does, though it’s more than perfectly understandable. The words he speaks bounce around inside your mind, over and over again. “Though, I feel I must admit that I believe only a true fool would ever open the accursed thing, let alone want to have it in one’s possessions.”

A silent moment passes between the two of you, before your head slowly turns upwards to gaze into Scratch’s eyes. You consider continuing the constant string of arguments that seem to occur whenever you’re within earshot of one another - and sometimes when you’re not - before slowly shaking your head from side to side, a light sigh escaping your lips as you slowly put the book down on your desk.

“Then call me a fool, so be it. I’ll be downstairs, Scratch. You know how to contact me should you need me. I would thank you for this...gift.”

“The Necronomicon, a book so sought after by- Well, I’m sure you realize just how important this find is. I dared not read it, for I am not an imbecile. I merely assumed you would like to have it, and that you would see it as much more than a mere gift.”

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, lost in thought. Though you feel yourself speak yet again, you’re not quite sure if it’s even yourself in control.

“That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons, even death may die,” your lips start, though you slowly feel your echoing, incredibly scratchy and throaty speech slowly overtake what you know you wish to say. “Goka gotha geb grah’n - Athg’bthnk orr’e shtunggli-agl.”

His mouth slowly forms into a grin, seemingly pleased at the turn of events. He nods as a response, turning about and slowly making his way to the door, his left leg limping all the while. You let your gaze rest on him for a while, before you feel your body slowly starting to go cold, starting from your right arm. Your head slowly falls down, your hair falling messily over your eyes, though quite obviously the chill that your entire body was being consumed by was emanating from the book given to you by your consort. The hand that rested upon it slowly pulled off, your eyes slowly turning upwards to ask one more thing of Scratch, though he had vanished, as if he were never there to begin with.

A chill ran down your spine, despite warmth once more flooding your extremities. Feet swiftly turned about to the bookcase which towered behind you. Hands idly ran across the wooden shelves as lithe, slender fingers outstretched to grab a book and pull it out. Your eyes locked onto it for a moment with a smirk as you regarded the book as the Bible, though in the darkness the cover was barely legible. Your arm once more reached out to where the book once was, sliding into the empty space before locating a small, round button, and gently pressing down. You hesitate for a moment, uneasily glancing down to the book within your hands, before moving to gently place it back in its spot.

Five seconds pass, then ten, thirty, though you’ve lost count. After what you can only presume to be an eternity passes, a familiar, low rumble slowly begins to ebb from beneath the floorboards. Painfully slow, with an almost deafeningly loud grinding, a large square section of the floor behind your desk slides open, falling into place with a mechanical click, followed by a short whirring noise. Your eyes gaze into the darkness for a moment, barely picking out the small, stone staircase that leads down into the abyss below. One hand moved back to grab the Necronomicon, the other to get a small candle, before you placed yourself directly in front of the staircase.

Your purple eyes fluttered with anticipation for the first time since you can’t even remember when, the freezing cold book clutched tightly against your side in anticipation. You took one step down the steps, and then another, patiently despite your baited excitement. The side of your hand gently pressed against yet another button that was further down the stairs, the same whirring and now almost ear-shattering grinding noise the only signal that the wooden platform was sliding back into place. Left alone in the darkness, you continued your trek downwards, yet only black void awaited you down there.

You do not mind, however. Scratch may believe you a fool, but you do not mind. Very little actually bothers you anymore, and you believe it will be even less so given your newly found book. He likely believes you to be chasing down false idols, that you are going to follow the path to your own ruin, but he does not understand. Children and Larva very rarely ever do, after all. Left alone with your thoughts for an eternity as you slowly make your way down the stairs, you’ve certainly come to a conclusion.

Your candle is suddenly extinguished, but again you pay no true heed, “Should I live, should I die - Should I be caught between something in the middle? Truly, it matters not to me.”

Your name is Rose Lalonde. You are a librarian, as well as the spearheaded leader of The Cult of R’lyeh, and either through chance or sheer persistence, have recently come across the one book that eluded your collection for so long. Today has been a very, very good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **R'lyehian Translations:**
> 
> Mnahn’fhtaghu, stell’bsna n’gha. - Worthless flesh, I pray for death. 
> 
> H’grah’n bug - agl- ebumna. - If it isn't the Larva. 
> 
> Nog ph’stell’bsna n’ghft, Ep’ee. - Come pray with me, Dark One. 
> 
> Goka gotha geb grah’n - Athg’bthnk orr’e shtunggli-agl. - I owe you a favor, Larva, be it physical or mental. Contact me when I’m here.


	2. Occultus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, a huge apology for the gargantuan hiatus. I tend to write very slowly, and contribute pieces at a time to this story, resulting in slow updates. If it's any consolation, I am already a decent way into the next chapter.
> 
> **NOTICE:** I have changed the format for the R'lyehian translations. Instead of having to scroll to the bottom of the chapter to see them, you can now hover over the text for translations. Good stuff! But for those who may be reading on mobile devices, I've decided to keep the translations in the end notes for you guys, so you're not left out of the loop.
> 
> As always, links contained within the story are for music only, as it helps set the tone of the scene.

**== > Be the Unfortunate Brother**

Black. All around you, as far as you can see, there is nothing but darkness. Your head slowly rotates one direction, and then the other, despite the fact you are almost entirely sure that even if anything was out there, you wouldn’t be able to see it. You take a cautionary glance downwards, gingerly moving your right leg, and then your left, to find you’re... Floating? You’re not even quite sure that you can call this floating. You’re certainly not falling, but there is a mass of nothingness around you.

The air seemed to shift and stir around you, and all at once you were aware of just how freezing you were. Arms slowly move to wrap about your body, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of just how badly you’re shivering. Your body warps inwards, trying to pull itself into a fetal position to maintain as much warmth as you can, and you part your lips to curse, to nobody in particular. It certainly seemed the natural thing to do, despite your circumstance.

The words came out, of that you were certain, but you heard nothing. You try again, but again, there is no sound. Your eyes close to blink, mechanically, as you’re quite certain you didn’t have to do so. Upon them opening, however, there is a figure in the distance which you were definitely sure wasn’t there a moment ago. You blink again, and the figure has moved quite significantly closer. You can just barely make out a humanoid figure, though their flesh has turned coal-black, and their eyes are white as snow.

Out of habit, you ask them something. You’re not even fully aware of what you asked, though the figure slowly smirks, their lips parting for just a moment. An echoing, eerie voice fills the air, though you don’t immediately register what it says. You look upon the figure, realizing very quickly that she was clad only in small shreds of clothing, all of which had gained the same black color as her flesh. The clothing had been ripped and torn, and instead tied about her, covering a single breast as well as her nethers.

You shake her form out of your mind, glancing back up to her. You mouth what you can only assume to be a request of her to answer your question once more, though she does not immediately answer your question. Instead, a slender, darkened arm reaches out towards you, snaking its way in a form that would likely, and normally, break a normal person’s arm. The arm slowly moves to you, hand gently resting upon your cheek, slowly carressing you.

She smiles, and the voice again echoes throughout the void, “ **Hello, brother**.”

As your lips parted to speak, your senses immediately sharpen as, all at once, you realize you’re choking. Hands move to grasp at your throat, eyes forcing to open wide, though suddenly they slam shut once more, stinging as if they had been jabbed. You force them open once more, desperately gazing around for any type of salvation, slowly turning your head upwards. Where once was void, you recognize now that you’re under water.

Frantically, you lash out, limbs moving in any direction possible. You feel the water start to fill your mouth and throat, to crash against your eyes and force them shut once more. Arms move to gain any ground to reach the surface, though as you manage to squint open, you realize you’re still sinking down. Your own weight starts to grow heavy, what little light there was slowly starting to fade, and you’re reclined to your own fate. You let your eyes slowly sag shut, and everything goes black.

After a moment of waiting, you’re very aware of the fact that you are currently not underwater. Your eyes spring open to darkness, but you can vaguely make out shapes. Your head slowly rolls to the side, to the spot where you knew your window was. A dim light came from behind the curtains, the dull noise of people going about their business barely audible from outside.

You pull yourself up into a sitting position, letting your legs fall off the bed, feet pressing into the floor. An arm raises, hand slowly running through your blonde hair which wasn’t too messy despite the fact that, according to your clock, you’ve been asleep for thirteen hours. In dull red text, the digital clock read that it was almost four P.M.With eyes half-lidded, you push yourself off your bed with a muffled grunt, pushing your hips forwards while pulling yourself back to stretch yourself out, then pull yourself back to a more natural standing position.

Slow footsteps guide you to your window, as you slowly pull open your curtain. You don’t bother glancing outside, though. The window beside your bedroom is, quite literally, aligned with an alleyway. You always thought it was an extremely poor design choice, but you guess you could see a use for it. Probably not.

You spin around on your heels, and after you almost faceplant because that was definitely a bad idea, doing something like that as soon as you woke up, you make your way to the mirror standing on the other side of your room. You note that yet another crack has turned up in the thing, making it near impossible - as if it wasn’t already - to see anything of note in the reflection. With a sigh, you reach down to the dresser that the mirror was balanced on, opening the top drawer and pulling out a small hand mirror.

Pulling the mirror to your face, your free hand moves up to gently run through your hair again. It usually stayed fixated in one place as you slept, and this time was no different. The fact that you used a copious amount of hair gel alongside the fact you can’t really remember the last time you showered, it’s of no surprise, really.

You place the mirror back into the drawer, sifting through it for a comb before, with a sigh, you decide to not worry about it. You spend another few seconds looking for your phone, before you shake your head. You turn about, scanning over your room, and sigh as you notice that there is stuff lying everywhere. You have no idea where your phone is in all the clutter, and besides that, it’s probably dead regardless. Deciding to find it later, you instead walk to the door, unlocking it and pushing it open.

You’re not surprised when, like your room, your living room and kitchen are also completely trashed. Nobody had broken in and nothing had happened, you just really didn’t feel like ever cleaning it up. Not much of a point, you think. Chances are it’ll just get dirty again, regardless, and then you’d have to clean that up as well. It not being clean definitely makes it look bad, but you never have anyone over anyway. Not a whole lot of people would actually want too, so you don’t worry about it.

Once more, your slow footsteps guide you to your fridge. You weren’t quite hungry, but normal people ate at this time, and you’ve personally become accustomed to doing the same. It sticks for a moment before you pull it open completely, leaning down to look inside it’s barren cavity. The cool air is definitely nice, and you take a moment to appreciate it given how hot your apartment has apparently become.

Inside of your refrigerator, there is, exactly as expected, almost nothing. A half-eaten bag of chinese, a single-wrapped burrito, and enough soda to supply a small nation. In the door, there’s also an empty bottle of apple juice that you don’t want to throw away in the off chance it somehow magically refills. Kind of a stretch, you guess, but a man’s gotta have something to hope for.

You grumble to yourself, grabbing the burrito and a soda can. You close the fridge with your leg, shifting the small machine slightly out of place before making your way to your microwave. With a smirk, you realize just how small your kitchen is; Much less of a kitchen, more of a corner of your apartment with a bunch of kitchen-type electronics plugged in. You shrug, opening one end of the plastic covering the burrito and literally throwing it into the microwave, then turn it on.

With an audible pop, you open your can, taking a long drink from it immediately. After a few seconds, you let out a happy sigh, then take a deep breath. You gaze over your apartment once more, eyes half-lidded, walking over to another mirror propped up in the corner. At a glance, you realize it’s not very sturdy just leaning against the wall, but you really don’t have anything better to prop it up against. You pull it up a little bit, making it nearly straight up and down, then frown as it slides back down into its former resting position.

Your reflection stares back at you, nearly-nude aside from your boxers - White, with red stripes and the different suits of cards matched randomly along them. You definitely weren’t fit, by any way of the meaning, but you weren’t out of shape either. You twist your body around looking over yourself and sucking in your stomach before you release it with a slight sigh, then shrug to nobody in particular.

You turn about, moving to one of two windows in the room. Snow is coming down extremely hard, and judging by the fact there’s a few inches on the ground, you imagine it has been for quite some time. A few people wander by, trying their best to continue their day despite the sheer amount of snow that is coming down. If you were a guessing man, you’d say that your city was caught in a blizzard - Of course, you’re not a guessing man. Usually just ends up poorly.

A loud, sudden *ding* sounds off from behind you, prompting you to close the curtains and turn about yet again. You pause for a moment, before walking over to the microwave and opening it, reaching in and burning yourself on it. You curse underneath your breath, moving to a small cabinet that was placed a foot or two off the side of your “kitchen corner”. You open it, gazing in to find that only one or two plates were actually clean. You make a mental note to actually wash dishes, but immediately forget it as you grab a plate and turn back to the microwave.

You grab the burrito, quickly shoving it onto the plate, then pull it out and slam the microwave door shut. You move over to the complete other side of your room, grabbing a somewhat old-looking laptop, which was sitting haphazardly and threatened to fall at any moment, from a table on the way over. Hopping up into a somewhat ratty chair, you set your plate on the table your laptop was on and then pull the computer onto your knees.

It takes this thing forever to actually turn on. You counted one time, and it was something around three minutes to start up and properly load everything, and even then you feel like you miscounted and lost a minute or six. You instead focus your attention on your food, grabbing it and taking a massive bite before setting it back down. Your computer, finally deciding to comply for once, turns on with an ear-shattering noise.

Your computer’s background is quite literally just a picture of Snoop Dogg that you cropped from a bigger picture of the N.W.A, then zoomed in, compressed it, then zoomed out and saved it as a jpeg three or four times. You don’t really know why you find it so hilarious, but every time you see Snoop’s eyes staring back at you from your backlit, illuminated screen, things just seem alright. Slowly, the rest of the programs on your computer start to load up as well, including your messenger, which is basically the entire reason behind you even getting on your computer. You move your mouse, which lags halfway through and jumps over the icon by a mile, and finally manage to set your Pesterchum status to Online.

Zero of seven friends online. You can’t really say you were expecting any different, as your friends have a myriad of different lives and extremely busy schedules. Of note, however, is it seems you just barely managed to miss ghostlyTrickster by literally thirty five seconds. You can practically feel the behemoth of a sigh coming on before you even do it, though someone else suddenly pops online.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has come online.

You don’t even want to talk to this person. Roxy’s not awful, by any stretch of the imagination, but more than half of the time she’s in a drunken stupor and you really don’t want to deal with her, because it feels like you have to play babysitter with her. Even though she’s your sister by some weird technicality that you don’t want to admit, and despite the fact you actually see her as probably your best friend, you really don’t feel like talking to her right now. Your mouse slowly moves over to the offline button, before the chat window pops up anyway. Her obnoxiously bright, hard to read pink text immediately floods your screen, and you honestly have to highlight everything she says.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG].

TG: dave do me a favor  
TG: can you see how long ago rose was online and tell me if shes been online like at all in the past day or two

TG: uhh yeah i guess hold on

You move the mouse off of the X and instead click on tentacleTherapist. All her information pops up, plain as you can see, but you have to physically right click and go into her actual profile. Super roundabout, but whatever, you guess. She seems pretty frantic over it, or at least you think she is. Hard to tell on the internet.

After you scroll through some information that you could easily retrieve from just normally clicking on Rose’s name, you finally find the last online date: three days ago. It doesn’t really strike you as being extremely weird, given her job as a librarian usually keeps her busier with more important matters. At least, you think. You’re not actually sure what she really does at her job.

TG: little over three days it looks like roxy whats up

TG: jake says shes gone missing and i was wanting to see if anyone else knew what was up

TG: yeah ive got no idea whatsoever but i guess ill keep my eyes out and then let you know if anything comes up or if i find out anything

She doesn’t respond, but you can see that she saw the message by the dull, grey text that reads “message read”, and then the time that it was. Understandably, she’s worried, and probably has better things to do than talk to you while her sister is apparently MIA. You guess you should be a little more worried, too, but she does this kind of thing all the time, vanishinG one night just to show up a few days later like nothing happened.

Your half-sister can be really weird like that. You exit out of that conversation, going back to reading over the rest of your friends and their statuses. Mostly offline, with the exception of one or two people who you barely talk to. You hover your mouse over timaeusTestified for a moment, almost considering to actually strike up a conversation with him for once. You quickly decide against it, however, once the overwhelming feeling of never being quite as accepted in your bigger brother’s eyes as he was sets in.

You lower your mouse, and instead move over the other who just came online. terminallyCapricious [TC]. You have no idea who this person is, honestly, let alone how he even got your chumhandle. All he ever does when you try to talk to him is just reply with various clown-horn noises and smiley faces. One time you linked him to a video you found and he linked you back to an ICP video. You really, really hate ICP. You’d go as far as to say if you ever got the chance, you’d challenge them to a badass fight and cut every single one of them down with one of your shitty swords.

Your eyes slowly move over to the massive pile of ICP paraphernalia sitting in the corner of your living room. You totally hate them. You can’t imagine anything you hate more, and you have no idea why you continuously buy this stuff. You’d throw it out, but every time you try, for one reason or another, it either ends up right back in that corner or makes its way back to your apartment. One time, you distinctly remember setting something of the sort on fire just for it to reappear back in your apartment when you walked in again. You’ve long since stopped caring about it.

Back to gazing aimlessly at your friends, you move the cursor over the last person online in your list. golgothasTerror [GT]. You rarely even see this guy on, much less strike up a conversation with him. Of the time you’ve had him on your friends’ list - and it has been a long, LONG time - you can remember maybe twice that you’ve actually held a conversation longer than twenty seconds with him. He’s constantly busy, and when he’s not busy, he’s getting ready to be busy. You don’t even know what he does, really, aside from being a super outdoorsy type that consistently plans for massive undertakings and adventure. You’re really not a big fan of it, to be honest.

You decide to find something else to entertain yourself with, though just as you start to pick yourself up from your chair, PesterChum makes a noise to let you know you’ve got another message.

TG: hey were all gonna meet down at the library to see if we can figure out where she went  
TG: you in???

Well, there’s your evening decided, you guess.

TG: yeah im in let me just get ready and ill show up

You don’t even wait for a response, instead just closing your computer and taking another massive bite of your food. That’s your entire day planned out, you guess.

* * *

In your dreams, she is always there. Pale, but black as the night sky all at once. Her hair is platinum, as white as pure, untouched snow. Her eyes show flaw and pain and reveal her sarcastic, almost hateful nature, but as you gaze deeper, you see more. Much, much more. Within her gaze, the universe and its secrets are laid bare, strung out for only you and her, though she already knows all. She seems familiar, though you’re sure you’ve never seen anything like her in your entire life.

Every time, she extends a hand out to grab yours, to pull you into the black abyss of smoke that she dwells within, and purple-black lips always say the same thing to you every time. No matter if she appeared as a young, pale girl, her nude form gripped with horrid, writhing tentacles and amalgamations of terrors unbeknownst, or if she were black and white, her eyes enveloping the entire universe, the words that left her mouth always sent a chill down your spine.

“ **Hello, brother**.”

You shake your head as a medium-height girl, dressed way too much in pink and black, makes her way up to you. She had a purple and white scarf wrapped tightly about her neck, a sweater that was probably two times too big with a black cat sown onto the front of it, and a somewhat short skirt. All of her garments were various patterns and shades of black and pink, and she stood out like a star within the frigid night.

“What?”

“I said hey, bro!” Roxy croons, and the echoing murmurs of the woman in your dreams resonates with her greeting.

“Oh, Roxy.” Your mind was still swimming with her introduction. She knew that you really didn’t associate all that much with their side of the family, despite the Lalondes fevered attempts at making you feel like you fit in. However, she was your sister, through some form and fashion, and probably your best friend too.

A cold sweat had started to trickle down the back of your neck, the daydream having apparently gotten the better of you. Your lips were tight and closed, unsure of how to properly greet the woman who was now wrapping her arms about your torso in a hug unlike this world would ever see. Another figure, standing a few feet away, caught your eye, however.

“Well, if it isn’t Dirk’s little bro, Dave!”, the voice boomed aloud into the night sky. “It’s absolutely been ages since we’ve last met, friend. Shameful business about Rose, but I’m sure we’ll be forthwith in finding her in a timely manner.” Jake stood tall, tan, and muscular as hell. He easily surpassed six feet, and you’d have placed him more than a few hundred pounds of muscle. He was even in that outfit that he must have had a hundred sets of, since he never seemed to change. Ever. Khaki shorts, a green T-Shirt, and a duffel bag that lazily dropped off of a single shoulder. He was even wearing sandals, despite the snowfall which had began to pick up.

Your friends really had no idea how to dress for the season, apparently. Roxy was always stuck in her own fashion, and you assumed Jake just didn’t care. His skin was probably thick enough to shut out the cold, anyway.

You give a small nod to the both of them, making sure your sunglasses prop back upwards onto your face. A small smile flashed across your lips, though you found yourself without words to respond, instead raising a single hand upwards in a rather unenthusiastic wave. Your smile simmered back down into your default resting face as Roxy pulled off of you, shoving her hands into pockets on either side of her sweater.

“We were gonna call Dirk,” Roxy started, “But he’s busy. Something about anime and horses or... Something...” She let the words linger in the air for a moment, lost in thought before she shook her head, pink-blonde mess of hair scattering about. “We were also gonna call Janey, but, uh..” She cast a side glance to Jake, who looked just as uneasy as you felt like you did at the moment. You barely even knew Jake, honestly. This was going to be awkward.

“Jade’s busy tending the shop, too.” The rough, yet somehow still light voice came from Jake to pierce the silence. “So, it’s just us three, tonight. I hope that’s dandy and all.” Despite how absolutely and infuriatingly awkward you found the situation, his smile at least provided a small moment of relief. It was better than being forced to have a heart-to-heart with Roxy, or whatever it is siblings do when they’re left alone. Actual siblings, that is - Not your siblings. You’d probably just try to murder each other with swords as usual.

“Yeah, that’s completely fine,” you start, even though it wasn’t, and you were left standing once more in silence, with the snow starting to pick up. You look behind yourself, at the doorway to the library, then in front of you again, then.. Wherever you could look without making direct eye contact, really. “Uh, anyway. Door’s unlocked, probably.”

Your words were confirmed as Roxy bounded ahead, pulling the door open with a single tug. Warm air rushed outwards, and for a moment, you were almost grateful you remembered to grab your old jacket. Even though it was extremely light, and barely managed to conceal from the elements, it drank in the warmth from the library for the single moment before you walked in.

It was just as you remembered it. Old and dark, though you wouldn’t go as far as to call it decrepit. There were candle sconces scattered around, though most of the candles had been completely melted to the point where they weren’t even useful. Guided by moonlight, you felt alongside the wall where you remembered a single light switch being.

You expected the entire building to illuminate as if on command, though it took a second or two before the few lights actually turned on. Honestly, it didn’t do too much to brighten up the place, but it gave you at least enough vision to be able to properly see.

Rows upon rows of bookshelves towered in front of you as you took a few cautionary steps inside, feeling almost as if you were breaking into a building that hadn’t been touched for decades. Years worth of dust flittered about as the door swung wide, then shut with a resounding thud that echoed throughout the entirety of the halls. Instinctively, you grit your teeth, half-expecting Rose to appear from a dark corner as she always did, to scold you for making any noise at all.

Your companions take small steps behind you, almost as if they were expecting you to lead them directly to where they were expected to go and search, though you idle for a short while as you take in the library. You hadn’t been in this place for a month or more, as you’ve never really had any reason to be. You tried to keep to yourself, after all.

“Well,” Roxy’s voice echoed off the walls, flowing throughout the hallways formed by the bookshelves, barely audible yet loud enough that you can hear it clearly. “Let’s split up and search for clues.” She’s smiling ear to ear, almost as if this was some type of game for her, that she had just started attempting to solve a mystery.

Jake and Roxy both make their ways to search through the bookshelves (though really it just looks like they’re walking back and forth through them), while you start towards Rose’s desk. You figure it’s the best place to start, as you could maybe find some kind of journal or a diary or something. It almost feels wrong to think that you’d go through it, when she might not even really be missing.

You also can’t lie. You’re more than a little interested in reading it, however.

Her desk is wooden, probably made of the same material the rest of the furnishings were made of. The topside was covered in an absolutely absurd amount of clutter, ranging from papers, to books, and even a bottle of red wine. You try to find a date on the bottle, but can’t find it. The label’s apparently been removed. You stash it in your bag, anyway.

You start brushing the books around the desk, reading the titles as you go in hopes of finding something she might have wrote; a note, a book, anything, really.

“Complacency of the Learned” was the first book that caught your eye, since it had Rose’s name right on the cover. You didn’t even know she was a published author, and you’re more than a little impressed. Not that you’d ever read her smutty wizard filth.

In the bag it goes.

By the time you’ve found something that could resemble a diary - a little black book which has nothing written on the cover but is definitely a journal of sorts as her name is written with great calligraphy on the front page - her desk is completely tidied up and straight. You glance up, and you can still hear the echoing speech of Jake and Roxy, though they’re nowhere in sight.

You feel slightly less bad about this, since they can’t see you doing it.

> **_October the Seventh_ **
> 
> _The search, thus far, has been fruitless. Though our labors are continuous and our cause just and righteous, we’ve yet to make any progress. Normally I wouldst write more, but as this is a new book and I am extraordinarily busy at this eve, I suppose this introductory sentence will do, as I have filled out in every other book thus far._
> 
> _I am Rose Lalonde. I am in search of a particular book. I am twenty one years old, and I work as a librarian. There is a particular book that has eluded my search, but we are nearly on the verge of finding it._
> 
> _We are very excited._
> 
>  
> 
> **_October the Ninth_ **
> 
> _We’ve found it. Scratch bestowed this gift upon to me, and lo’, we are pleased. All of us. To the downstairs room I whisk, soon - Though I am honest, perhaps a bit on the excited side as we venture further into this. It has been a very good day thus far, and I am near exhaustion though I will not, can not, rest. Not at this moment. I’ll have to remember to relock the stairwell to avoid confrontation from the unwashed masses._
> 
> _As well, I’ll need to procure a ride. There is a specific place I’ve in mind._
> 
> _Athg’bthnk - Goka grah’n gotha. K’yarnak’mg orr’e-or shugg. _

The rest of the book is just a bunch of scribbles, as far as you can tell. There are a few actual words that you recognize mixed into all the weird drawings, and for a moment, if almost looks like something straight out of some kind of weird occult book. You figure it’s the exact thing that Rose would be into, and finally put the little book back into your bag as well. You hadn’t even noticed Roxy and Jake, who had been reading over your shoulder for a few minutes at least, you would guess.

You turn, slowly, red-faced as if you were a misbehaving child who was caught doing something they obviously weren’t supposed to do. You clear your throat, casting a glance to either of them for just a moment.

“I guess we go downstairs,” the words escaped your lips, barely audible amongst the massive echo of the somewhat empty room. You glance around, as do they, before you come to a conclusion. “That being said, I have no idea if there even is a downstairs. Rose said there was a room, but I’ve never seen it. She never mentioned it, anyway.”

Roxy put her hand up to her chin, rubbing it as if she had a massive beard and were stuck in massive contemplation. She twirled about, her arms moving behind her back in a clasp as she did. She took a few paces off, before she shrugged her shoulders, bright eyes turning to look into yours. You lower your head, unable to match her gaze.

“The building’s only so big,” Jake had already began walking off towards the back, behind the desk where a few shelves remained alongside of a few totes worth of books. “No progress to be made if we stand here chatting like a bunch of loons.”

You can’t say you really disagree with the sentiment, as you turn back towards the desk for a moment. You wait for a few seconds, eyes shutting and your fists tightening as you breathe deeply, hoping that when you turn about your friends will be farther into the library. You straighten your back, though the rest of your body slumps slightly as you turn about and realize you’ve been left alone again.

A quick glance moves your head about as you inhale, then exhale slowly, for much longer than you took in breath. Your eyes had finally began properly adjusting to the dim light of the library, and you run a hand through your hair. You really had no idea where to begin searching, and you were content to watch as Roxy and Jake faded out of view yet again, relaxing quite substantially as they did so.

**Bookshelf.**

You jerk your head upwards, with only darkness to greet you in response. Not quite the abyss that you were normally entrapped in whenever you dreamt, but a warm blackness. You note that you’re still in the library.

**Behind you. Top shelf. Red book.**

Your body moves as if guided by an unknown hand, gentle as you shifted in the unknown black void. Head tilted upwards, a gentle force upon your chin as someone would do to gaze within each other's’ eyes. And gaze you did, into the abyss.

The abyss gazed back.

Your hand raised, grasping to the top shelf of the bookshelf in front of you. Your hand grasped tightly against the spine of the book, pulling it out and dropping it altogether as if your hand had completely stopped working. Yet, again, it moved back up, fingers finding the hole where the book once slept. You wormed your way into the hole just barely, a single finger finding a circular device imprinted at the very back.

You press it. There’s a satisfying click that fills the room, but then all is silent for a moment. You wait, hand stuck above, barely even aware of the slight footfalls that your companions were making elsewhere. If a pin dropped, you would have definitely heard it - The kind of uneasy silence that only happens once you’re aware you’re being stalked. It fills the room, and the silence is horrifically loud.

All at once, a massive grinding erupts from beneath warped floorboards. Your lips move and you’re sure you’ve said something, more than likely yelled it though the rumbling beneath your feet made it near impossible to hear. You barely manage a glance downwards, to see a section of flooring just moving alongside, grinding and scraping against the flooring it was slowly crawling underneath.

Jake and Roxy had also started making their way back due to the noise. For a moment, Roxy seemed to stumble and barely catch her footing while Jake sprinted only faster, barely stopping an inch away from the hole that had just suddenly appeared in the floor.

Silence, yet again. The only noise now flowing throughout the library were the breaths of Jake and Roxy, and you finally let out a small breath through your nose as well. The entire ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, yet it felt like a near eternity before anyone made a move or spoke. You glanced up to Jake, then to Roxy, then back down to the small stairwell which had been fairly well hidden until a moment ago.

“I, uh,” You cough, shoving your hands into your pockets, “Found the stairs.”

Roxy merely smirked wide, before breaking into laughter, however forced it sounded. Jake was still looking about perplexed, kneeling to look at the area that had once just been wooden flooring.

“There was a switch,” you start, and then realize just how dumb this must sound, as if you were in some sort of mystery novel. “Hidden in the book...shelf..” The more words that escaped your lips, the more ridiculous you felt explaining.

“The bookcase.” It wasn’t quite a question, but given Jake’s demeanor and just how deadpan he was, it may as well have been one.

“Behind a book. Uh, ‘Greek and Roman Necromancy’ was the title, I think.” You didn’t even look at the book title, but you knew exactly where the switch was. “Just reached up and flicked it.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know, Dave?” Roxy’s light voice pierced the tone, though her smile was still wide, yet in a way almost seemed fake. “Were you keeping it a secret for some reason?”

“No, no, I-” your throat felt dry, and you tilt your head downwards, angling it somewhat towards the new stairwell, “Rose might be down there. Or, something to tell us where she went.” Your lips pursed just slightly, shades dipping down onto the tip of your nose, “But why would she...”

“Why would she need something so hidden,” Jake finished your sentence, and for a moment seemed solemn. “Perhaps we really should enlist Jane to assist us, regardless of our... Differences. I’m sure she’d be willing, but...”

Roxy had already started descending the stairs, barely even paying attention to the conversation. You frown at Jake, then glance down to Roxy, giving a slight nod to indicate that he should follow. He frowned, somewhat unsure, though a hand dipped into a pocket on his shorts to pull out a small, hand-held flashlight.

“Well, that’s convenient,” but Jake had already started down the stairs after Roxy, footfalls hurried until he had met with her and swapped places, wriggling and forcing their way about one another so that he could go first with the light. You took your time walking down, speeding up only to not be left out in complete darkness as they descended into the solid black of the hidden floor.

* * *

[Cicatrix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nz0C8mmZArc)

You must have been walking for five minutes, at least. Nobody had said anything in that entire time, and an air of nervous anxiousness had gripped you since before you even started making your way downwards. Your shades were hanging from your shirt, with the legs of them tucked so that they bounced against your chest as you walked. On more than one occasion, you even had to brush away a cobweb or three. This place had apparently not been used very often, and a thought passed through your mind that perhaps Rose had gotten lost, or fallen down, or any other number of horrid things in this dank abyss.

That thought, however, quickly passed as the putrid smell of rot and death filled you. A hand raised to your face, and you stopped just a second short of bumping into Roxy, who had stopped only because Jake had. He turned about, his face contorted in a grimace, and a hand went downwards to the opposite side he had grabbed his flashlight from.

“Don’t panic,” he said as he moved swiftly, lifting his shirt to pull a small pistol from it’s holster. The sight alone, even though you could barely even see it, made you clench your teeth out of some primal fear. Him telling you to ‘not panic’ certainly didn’t help matters, either. “You two, stay here for a second.”

He nodded downwards, an obvious, red light coming from where the stairwell apparently ended. The hand with the light passed it over to Roxy, who grabbed it and illuminated his way downwards. His steps were agonizingly slow, almost as if each were crucially calculated to be as silent and inconspicuous as possible. When at last it seemed he had finally made it to the entrance at the bottom, he seemed to stand as still as a statue for but a moment.

He turned the corner, and you could just barely see him lift the gun, but there was naught but silence yet again. You held your breath, eyes almost shutting out of fear that would equate to almost being terror. You subconsciously have to force yourself to not bite down on your tongue, lest you bite the damned thing in half.

“Jake?” Roxy spoke, the name almost barely even seemed to register in the darkness, as if she had said nothing at all. She cast an uneasy glance back at you, before she took a few steps downwards. One step. Nothing.

Two steps. Nothing.

Three steps-

Jake turned the corner, almost solemn, yet with a look of sheer disgust locked upon his face. The gun had been put back in its holster, apparently, and he made a beckoning motion with his hand, the other pulled up over his mouth and nose.

You finally allowed yourself to breath, though immediately wish you hadn’t as the smell that permeated through the air passed through your nose all too quickly, and for a moment, you almost vomit. You take note of Jake, who had been covering his mouth and nose, and though it does little to help, a little is still better than nothing. Roxy had also started doing it, and you both walk in tense silence to the bottom of the steps.

As you pass through the entrance, your eyes are immediately drawn to what was causing the stench. Upon a table in a far corner, bathed in a red light that illuminated the entire room with how intense it was shining, was a dissected goat. It’s organs and entrails lay out amongst it, a few of them having apparently been spilled and left to rot. It’s face locked in apparent horror, and-

You turn around. You really can’t look at that anymore, and apparently, neither can the other two.

“What in the bloody hell was she doing down here?” the question was almost choked out, and if not for the dialect, you’re not sure your senses would be acute enough to realize it was Jake. “Sacrificing bloody animals to fulfill some kind of pagan death ritual?” It almost sounded sarcastic, though you weren’t sure. To your eyes, it definitely could have been that.

You barely manage another half-look over your shoulder, and gag just a bit before turning around and throwing up, dropping to your knees. When you glance back up, Roxy and Jake were on the other side of the room. You were vaguely aware of Roxy’s hand gently resting against your head, though you’re not sure how much time has actually passed. Likely, they were just wanting to figure something out and leave as quickly as they were able.

The rest of the room was dimly lit by the red lamp on the far-side, and though you had to squint to see, it wasn’t all that dark. It seemed just like a normal room, but a mile underground and with a goat that had been sitting there for… You didn’t even know. Weeks, probably!

A few shelves sat along, though most had been cleared and only a few had anything left upon them. A book or two here, a small globe on another. Though something in the center caught your attention, and the attention of both Roxy and Jake, as well. You shake your head, trying to get your bearings, just in time to catch Jake reading part of a paper.

“...and speak the name mentioned earlier. I know this may seem weird, Dave, and I apologize for not cleaning up.”

Your mind goes hazy again, though you force yourself to stand. Roxy rushes to your side to help you to your feet, as Jake presses his hands against either hip and glances at the structure in the center of the room.

It was a pretty good size, coming up to about the bottom of your chest when you stood completely upright. It was a vague cone shape, which ended with a sphere and a small circular opening in the top. The entire thing seemed to be carved of black stone, aside from the spherical tip, which had patterns of black and purple, seemingly at random with large swirls of either color.

“What do you think, Roxy?” Jake’s voice was almost quiet, a whisper perhaps, though you could still hear him audibly. He cleared his throat, eyes lowering back to the note he held in his hand. “Put your hand on this, read what she wrote, and say a name. Think it’ll actually do something?”

“It said specifically for,” Roxy had to stop for a moment, arm wrapping around your shoulders to support you, and even with her assistance, you still find yourself swaying slightly, “Dave to do it. Hey, you feel alright, Dave? You can go back up if you want, it’s fine, especially with, uh...” She cast a glance to the side, though not to the goat in the far side of the room. You sympathize. You don’t think you could look at it again, either.

Jake sighs, taking a longer breath afterwards as he moved a hand outwards to rest gently atop the object in the center of the room. He shrugged, and then Roxy shrugged, and despite the fact that you definitely thought this was a bad idea, your lips remained frozen shut. Despite your best efforts to speak, to plead, to beg them to not continue, you couldn’t find the strength to talk.

“Vulgtlagln”, the word seemed unnatural and shaky, and the echo that came from Jake’s lips seemed to sound all about, despite there not being one a moment ago. “Shogg’ai, athg’bthnk, grah’n’hafh’drn.” The red light in the room seemed to grow dimmer, then brighten in quick pulses. Despite Roxy being so close, you couldn’t hear her breathe, and you don’t think you were, either.

Jake’s lips stalled for a moment, his eyes wide as if he had suddenly realized something, though with a sharp intake, he pressed his hand down against the apex of the onyx stone pillar. He shook for a moment, swallowing hard. “Shogg, tharanak Kanaya Maryam.”

A scream pierced the quiet of the room you were in, and though you could barely glance upwards, it was extremely obvious that a spike of some sort had erupted upwards through the device Jake had his hand on, quite literally latching him to it. Blood started to pour from the wound, downwards and onto the device which quickly filled the crevices carved upon it. You merely watched, paralyzed with fear, and though you wished only to reach out and pull him off of the device, your legs locked.

**You are not to save him, Little One. Watch, as he has broken the rules.**

Blood continued to pool about the device, an obscene amount for how little damage you assumed the device to have actually done. As it pooled, it almost seemed to… move. It fell into an odd symbol on the floor, a circle with several lines crossed through it, though not in any particular shape. The room glowed bright red, and your world started fading white.

The last thing you remember hearing is a goat’s bleating before you fall to the ground.

* * *

You never pretended to be a strong person. You never even pretended that nothing could phase you, even though people seem to immediately jump to that conclusion whenever they talk about you. Typing to someone over pesterChum is easy, and you have plenty of time to think about your words, and if someone doesn’t like you or gets under your skin? It’s literally a single button to never have to worry about that ever again.

To most of your friends, you’re cool and aloof - You really, really just don’t care about anything. Should something horrible happen to you, it’s much easier to disguise your true feelings over simple text. ‘Yeah, I’m fine’ or ‘Nah, don’t worry about it’ are always all it took, and if they kept at the subject, there were even more simple ways to completely derail the conversation. Not that you didn’t appreciate it, but if you’re being honest with yourself, your problems are your own; not anyone else’s to snoop around, or to try and fix to maybe feel good about themselves.

Real life, however, was much more difficult. You used to go out every single day with your friends and family during high school, but in recent years, you could probably count the number of times you went out that wasn’t for groceries or a chore on both hands. It’s not as if your friends didn’t care, far from it, as they would ask you fairly consistently to do stuff with them. After a while, though, that just kind of stopped. No more ‘Hey, Dave, let’s go hang out at the mall!’ or “Dave, we’re going to get some coffee, you wanna come?”

You guess you did it to yourself, though.

Red eyes slowly force themselves open, and for a moment, you have no idea where you’re at. You’re staring up at a dusty ceiling, white with ridges along them that seemed to jut and protrude at random. You’re vaguely aware of people talking, but you have no idea what they’re saying. Way too hard to focus with this massive headache that you’ve got.

You let your eyes start to close once more, enveloping yourself in a comforting darkness, to be alone with your thoughts. You inhale sharply, and as you open your eyes once more, you see her.

She’s pale and pristine, though at once you’re more intimidated by her than you’ve ever been before. Her nude form, floating merely three feet away from you, almost makes you consider her to be an angel cast down from God, of whose wings were cut away for sin. She’s got her back to you, and though you try to keep your gaze to where her eyes would be, you start to gaze downwards.

Upon her back, where normally you would have expected two, snow-white wings to protrude, instead were two writhing, purple-black tentacles which whipped and flailed sporadically, as if desperately clawing out for anything in their proximity. They dripped with purple goo, slinging it to and fro’ as they desperately attempted their way off of the person in front of you-

And then she kneeled, falling upon a single knee as her arms outstretched to either side. The kind of scene where you would expect a cacophony of angelic music and a brilliant, blinding light to accompany it was playing before your eyes, and instead, the visage of horror and a churning black void of smoke and abyss ebbed ever forwards.

_ Mnahn’grah’n, lw’nafh uln Shogg. _

Yet all at once, you realize that grasped within her grip was a blade, small and glimmering, even in the blackened void. The titan’s grip that she had firmly locked upon it was obvious, as her knuckles were turning white. Or perhaps they always were, though her body seemed to be all but static by this point, your eyes unable to lock truly unto a singular form as she contorted and shifted about.

“Dave,” a deeper voice started throughout the abyss. “Dave, get up, we don’t have time for you to be sleeping, man.”

Your eyes open to a familiar, but perhaps not a very comforting, sight. Where once only darkness and sorrow had been, now… it was Dirk, so it wasn’t exactly very far off from what you were just dreaming about. You cough, sputtering slightly as you force yourself into a sitting position, though all at once wish you hadn’t. The entire world felt like it was spinning.

“Jesus, dude, just how hard did you actually hit your head? It apparently took me an hour to get here, but that’s not even counting however long you were unconscious for before they even called me. Which, by the way, I’m still pretty sour about, considering I missed- Eh, whatever. You’re more important.” The words seemed almost sarcastic, in a way, and you would maybe go as far as to even call them ironic.

That’s probably not even how you use ironic, now that you think about it. Thinking definitely makes your head twinge with pain, though.

You shake your head, not able to completely speak as of yet. You glance about, a hand moving up to your skull to gently rub against your eye, though that eventually sends a spur of panic down your spine. The hand that was pressed against your eye goes down to your shirt, to grab your shades, and-

Broken. One of the lenses had a massive crack going down one half of them, and the other side’s leg was bent completely in the wrong direction. You cursed, meaning for it to be under your breath, but by Dirk’s expression which changed to a wide smirk, you’re definitely aware it was louder than intended.

A hand comes down, hovering a few feet in front of you, and you grasp it, as Dirk assists you to your feet. Everything is still spinning, and despite your best efforts, Roxy wraps her arm around your shoulders again to help you balance. You didn’t even really register her, or Jake, for that matter, to be in the room with you.

“Did they, uh...” You start, but your mouth is dry as hell. You can barely even manage the few words, and they were slurred and barely legible. Dirk, naturally, seemed to get one hell of a kick out of it, if that wide smile was anything to show.

“Yeah,” and all at once he seemed solemn, serious. You really hated how he did that. “They told me about it, alright. Which is exactly why you need to get up, ‘cause we gotta run Jake to the hospital over his hand which apparently had more blood in it than all of the oceans have water. Kinda gruesome, though still kind of funny that you were the one who passed out.”

You let your lips open for a moment, thinking of a comeback, though Roxy cuts in just a moment before you’re able to absolutely devastate him with what you could only assume would be the greatest of insults imaginable. Probably.

“I’ll drive you home, and Jake and Dirk are going to take Dirk’s motorcycle.” She frowned, glancing towards the two who had started talking, both making slight motions towards his hand. You couldn’t see the wound, as they had found some kind of cloth to wrap it with. Probably in one of Jake’s pockets, if you had to guess.

“Hey, Jake,” you mumbled, barely more than a whisper. If he had even heard you, he didn’t really make any sign of noticing, though Roxy gently pressed her hand against your head in a calming fashion.

“He’ll be alright,” Roxy’s voice seemed to be more gentle than usual, almost soothing in a way. “We looked at his hand, and whatever caught it went through. But it doesn’t look like it hurt anything major.” She stared forwards, before pulling her gaze down to yours. By the way she looked, she was just as confused about the entire situation as you are.

“I’ll call the cops tomorrow and get them to investigate. I’ll stay with you for a bit, if only because, uh..” She gave an obvious, fake grin, clearing her throat, “If only because I wouldn’t want my brother to be scared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **R'lyehian Translations:**
> 
> _Athg’bthnk - Goka grah’n gotha. K’yarnak’mg orr’e-or shugg._ \- Bind a contract with my soul to grant me a lost one. Force a lost soul from the realm of darkness.
> 
> _Shogg’ai, athg’bthnk, grah’n’hafh’drn._ \- I enlist as a summoner to the realm of darkness, in place of my pain, I grant life. 
> 
> _Shogg, tharanak Kanaya Maryam._ \- Realm of Darkness, deliver unto me Kanaya Maryam. 
> 
> _Mnahn’grah’n, lw’nafh uln Shogg._ \- Worthless larva, only able to call the Realm of Darkness while dreaming.


	3. Repente

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few weeks, but hey, a few weeks compared to a few months is acceptable, right? Right? I'm honestly trying here, I swear. My writing just tends to happen sporadically and in little tidbits that add up to something big after a while.
> 
> This chapter starts the string of unfortunate events that are about to starting taking place in this story. So get ready. This is just the beginning of this wild ride.

**== > Be the Accursed Librarian**

Perhaps, once upon a time, in another place, the figure that had been forming in front of you may have unnerved you. Blackened blood, which had pooled upon the floor a mere three feet away from you had appeared, as if from seemingly nowhere, and had started to slowly change shape. It had taken it a few minutes to completely manifest, and though the jerking movements, as if writhing about desperately, seemed to imply pain, you were all too well aware at what was happening.

The bloodied mannequin stood to be taller than you, perhaps by almost an entire foot. Where a face should have taken form, instead only black liquid took it’s place, though eery noises escaped from the figure every few moments. Fingers and toes had started to manifest properly, though they seemed almost webbed, stuck together, and yet dripping and reforming over time. An amalgamous mass of oil, it almost seemed, as two, curved horns exploded, quite violently, from its skull.

The noise of bones crackling and crunching, reforming just to rip and tear yet again, would have made a lesser being cower in fear. The ripping and horrid rending of flesh and teeth and nails crackled throughout the large room, echoing back and forth with each awful crack of sinew and muscle.

But then, there she stood.

Dark gray skin, perhaps just a shade from being black, with two, massive protruding horns and eyes like a feral cat, staring down it’s prey. About her neck lay a green kerchief, tied neatly and elegantly, yet drawing attention to her icy flesh. With a grin, a wide set of normal teeth were upon display, yet with the two canines being massive, almost horrifically so. You weren’t even quite sure how she managed to close her mouth with how large they were.

Black horns, ribbed and rough, started a half-circle about, though ended short just of completing their first cycle, one of the two ending with a small ‘hook’. Though her form stood mostly nude, as well, the small bit of green at her throat, your senses were at least partially aware that this was merely because of the way her summoning had been done. You’d have to get the poor child something to wear, in a moment.

“My,” your lips moved, though immediately locked upwards in a grin. From your makeshift throne, which was little more than a somewhat decorative chair coated in blood and feathers, you perhaps seemed a Queen amongst those around you. You hum happily to the thought, as you lean to the side, your fist propping up your cheek. “I was expecting a bit more.”

The being in front of you frowned, eyes narrowing in defiance and yet she kneeled upon one knee, head aimed downwards so as to perhaps not incite your wrath. Her lips opened for just a moment, though they quickly closed yet again as she inhaled sharply.

“If I may speak?”

You grinned wider. You lifted yourself upwards from your throne, purple eyes gazing downwards upon the beast in front of you. Your tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you’re unable to stop yourself as a small bit of laughter escapes from your throat.

“You may.” You held the words in the air a bit longer than perhaps you would have expected yourself to. Your legs cross in front of you, cloth pressing against both of your legs as your skirt shifts quietly.

She glances upwards, and at once the vibrant jade in those predatory eyes become apparent. The dull-lit room did nothing to showcase her features, and yet her eyes seemed to almost stare daggers through you. For a moment, you enjoy the silence as she weighs her options, as if she were afraid to speak and offend. Pity her, as it would take much to upset you.

“Summoning sickness,” and as soon as the words left her mouth, your own lips turned sour. Your expression must have shown, how your mood had just immediately dropped, as her head tilted low yet again, “Someone other than the intended recipient performed the ritual. Perhaps used someone else’s blood, or-”

She glances up again, and her eyes widen for a moment as you had already risen from your throne and casually made your way to her. Silent footfalls, almost as if you were a floating ghost lost in the aether, passed her by just one or two steps before stopping. You glance behind yourself, taking a moment to once more gaze over her body from a different angle. Disappointing, as a whole, though perhaps not entirely unuseful.

“Are you capable of making a portal? Or, at least assisting me in making one?” The words had left your mouth before you even had a moment to think of them. To say you were upset was putting it lightly, as you had delicately laid out the rune, the trap, and everything, taking prior caution at least two weeks in advance. Just for it to be ruined! Likely by some imbecile who had wandered their way into your private quarters, likely looking to ransack the place while going through your personal belongings. The thought of that made your nostrils flare in anger, and the demon in front of you stifled to move. You squint your eyes in their direction.

“Up,” you command, and she obeys. She was as tall as you had remembered, and then perhaps some. Standing at least over six feet, that much was sure. With her horns and the contrast of her beside you, she could have been more than six and a half. You clear your throat, twisting your head towards the wall in front of you, “Portal here. You take the left side, I’ll take the right. Contract Demons, if you would, love.”

She almost seemed to scowl as you barked commands at her, though she made way to the wall instructed, taking her proper place. A hand extended outwards, and already a small, purple tentacle seemed to pulse outwards from her hand and into the wall. She seemed to grit her teeth, or perhaps that’s how they always were locked, given her canines, before glancing uneasily to you.

Well, at least she wasn’t useless, as you had suspected. Demons certainly had it easy when it came to summonings, however.

Your teeth sink into your hand, and your mouth is instantly filled with your own blood. You sputter a bit, trying to keep the charade of being a massive, imposing person, before shaking your head to clear the thought. An outstretched palm pressed against the wall, making a slow circle and adding in the details: an elder star in the center, a symbol of the corrupted taint approximately three centimeters below the very top point, and a few other symbols in a myriad of shapes.

“Shoggoth," her mouth had opened for just a moment, before glancing towards you.

“Shoggoth,” you started, small giggles finding their way back to your throat, casting a glance back at her. Her jade eyes had started to roll backwards, hand almost stuck into the wall as the rune you had drawn sprang to life, swirling, removing itself, and creating itself anew all at once. It would have almost made you dizzy, were you not used to it in the first place.

Around the edges of the circle, which had now arranged itself more to be a thin oval, began to swirl a pattern both purple and cloudy. Agonizingly slow, the misty, violet substance started to make its way downwards, starting to cover the entirety of the oval. One line at a time, inch by inch, though always moving quicker the closer it got to the bottom. It was increasingly difficult to pay attention, however, as the fog that had created the portal felt as if it were enveloping your very mind, pulling at the strings that controlled everything that made you, well... You.

“Vriska Serket,” the words echoed about the room, from your lips, despite not knowing exactly what you were trying to say. The demon you had summoned glanced over to you, curiously for a moment, lips pulling upwards into a smile to reveal canines built only for lacerating and rending. Glowing eyes gazed back to the portal for a moment, a sharp inhale breaking her silence.

“Terezi Pyrope,” the words came from her lips, this time. There was a slight echoing to her voice, a small ‘tick’ of sorts that almost made it elegant, and perhaps relatively alluring, were it not for how ghastly her form was, at least at the moment. You were sure, given the fact her entire existence revolved around trickery and illusion, that once the Sickness wore off, she would be fine.

Probably, anyway. You hadn’t been doing this occult thing for very long, at least to this extent.

Sudden movement from the purple smoke garnered your attention for a moment, though you made special care not to remove your hand from the wall, or your body from the area around it. Two bodies, silhouetted by darkness, and covered in the swirling purple abyss stepped out, though their forms were nigh impossible to see at the moment. The smoke seemed to drip and ooze off of their bodies and form, slowly uncovering who they were beneath. Fully clothed, it seemed, unlike the vampire. You suppose you’ll have to learn the separate nuances of summoning to figure out precisely why.

A small glance is cast towards the two who had just wandered through the portal, your hand and body wavering slightly, though you’re sure to catch yourself properly as to not show just how winded the entire process had left you. The vampire stood also, a scowl etched on her face as she looked between the two.

The first, on the left, seemed to almost radiate with a bright teal light. Her skin was unnaturally pale, unlike the other two, with a set of horns that were almost see-through, as though they were made up entirely of the bright light emanating off of her form. They spiked off the sides of her head, both pointing towards opposite directions, and if you hadn’t really looked, they wouldn’t have even been noticeable. Aside from that, she had a black cane that looped at the top, and a pair of red cateye glasses that covered her eyes entirely. A bit odd, you suppose, as you’ve never known one of their kind to be blind.

The other lay on the right. She was taller than the teal one, and where the first’s flesh was pale, hers was just... White. Devoid of any color, completely, and the more your eyes move about her figure, the more you start to notice the spider-web of veins that flowed about her face and neck. They covered her nearly inch by inch. Her horns, however, were much more prominent, much closer to resembling the vampire’s. One of them had a similar ‘hook’ that fell down at the tip, while the other more resembled a crescent. You believe them to be silly, and impractical, but you suppose they have the intimidation factor on their side, at least.

Your lips start to open, though you’re interrupted by the one with glasses erupting into a cackling, howling laugh. Your eyes wander to her, and though her own are guarded from the glasses, you’re aware she’s looking not to you, but to her companion.

“Vriska,” the voice starts, and it’s shrill and whiny, and you reminisce that it sounds just like you’d expect nails against a chalkboard to sound like, “I do believe we have a new host!” The laughing started again, and Vriska chimed in, though with a small, predatory chuckle.

“Of course, Terezi,” and Vriska’s eyes are upon you, staring you down, “Though she looks much too far in over her head, don’t you agreeeeeeee?” The last word is drawn out, far too long, and you grit your teeth from behind your closed lips. A hand extends outwards to touch you, and though you don’t flinch, your eyes narrow in sheer defiance as you stare upon one of the demons.

Vriska’s hand pulls back, quickly, glancing somewhat uneasily towards Terezi, the vampire, and you... Anywhere in the room really. “Alright, sheesh, I get it. You’ve barely begun the transformation, but it’s there.” Her lips pull into a frown, though Terezi’s are still cut wide into a smile. “Kind of ridiculous, if you ask me. I could still probably kill you if I wanted to.”

“But you’re not going to,” the vampire stood tall, now, much taller than the other two. Even with her gray skin and sickly visage, the power that she gave off seemed much greater than the two in front of her. She frowned, more angry than upset, fangs showing from a closed mouth, “Now, are you?”

An uneasy silence fills the room. You glance about the group for a moment, all of them standing uneasily with the two Contract Demons blocking your only exit from where they had left the portal. The room, almost pitch black were it not for the small lamp in the corner and Terezi’s glowing, would have given you a normal sense of dread, though a nagging sensation in the back of your mind assured you this was going to work out. And then you raised your hand forwards-

Vriska scowled, apparently exerting quite a bit of force against you as you extended your hand outwards. Her eyes narrowed, body tensing up before she glanced to Terezi. Though she seemed to not be struggling as much, she obviously still was. They seemed to almost writhe about, though you truly felt as if you were doing nothing. A grin forms upon your black lips, head tilting to the side.

“Kneel.”

They did.

“Now, if we’re all done being petty bitches, for a moment,” Your hand raises, a finger moving up to gently press against your lips as you cursed. “I’m in need of a contract.” That much should have been obvious, though you suppose summonings had been done before either accidentally, or with the wrong type of demon. Occult activities didn’t happen often, so you assumed there was some room to cause an accident. You give a small nod to the vampire, “You may instruct them, Miss…?”

“Kanaya,” her lips pulled downwards, frowning wide as she stared daggers through the two in front of her. “Kanaya Maryam,” her words echoed in the air for a moment, before you note the two in front of you seemed to almost appear much more on guard.

“Great going,” you hear Vriska whisper, “You pissed off Maryam. She could’ve just killed us both, you idiot.”

“I wasn’t the one who started trying to fuck around with her summoner, now was I, Vriska?”

Their bickering started to bore you. You cleared your throat, and that was all it took for them to glance back up to you, then towards Kanaya. Even though the vampire had summoning sickness, it appeared she was still obscenely powerful, if the reaction from the two Contract Demons had anything to say about it. That was going to be useful, definitely.

“The ones who summoned me improper,” Kanaya started, and as she did so, you note that her teeth, which had previously been as normal human teeth, had started to shift and become more jagged and feral. “Jake English,” and her eyes seemed to glow as a cat’s in the dead of night, only the silhouette of a tall woman and horrid eyes showing through. “You will fetch that one for us, dead or alive.”

“As well,” you started, eyes closing in a happy sort of trance yet again, “There is one you are not to touch. Dave Strider.” Kanaya nodded, your head tilting lazily to one side, “Feel free to kill the rest of them, if you need to.”

This, apparently, had caused Vriska to break into laughter again, as she looked towards Terezi for but a moment and lifted upwards to her feet. A hand outstretched down to Terezi, though she pulled it away at the last moment as her ‘friend’ extended her hand outwards to it. Terezi merely laughed in response, pulling herself back up, too.

“Normally, we have quite the fee,” and Vriska’s hand had reached out towards you yet again, though you didn’t move this time. With the way Kanaya was looking, you highly doubted she was going to try anything. “However, you summoned me, and that fills mine. My friend’s, perhaps not so much.”

To which Terezi was immediately upon your person, and you were vaguely aware that the two of them resembled feral cats, wandering about and playing with their meal before actually killing it. Your eyes wander from one to the other, though with their movements, it’s very hard to keep track of either of them at any given time.

“My fee,” Terezi started, long, dark tongue flicking from spectral lips, “Would normally be your soul.” How cliche. “However, it looks like Little Miss Lalonde doesn’t have hers readily available for trade,” and your eyes widen. Partially because she knew your name, partially because her hand was tracing down your chest, resting against the very middle of your torso. Not particularly cold to the touch, but she almost seemed to drain the heat from you just by existing nearby.

Your frown turns into a smirk as your mind springs to motion, staring Terezi up and down for a moment, not backing an inch even as everything inside of you is freaking out, screaming at you to run or hide, that this is not natural, while something even deeper tells you to stay, to reap the rewards for your effort.

“You’ll have a soul,” you start, lips suddenly feeling dry. You’ll need a drink after this. “Many of them, should you choose to serve. I’m not aware of your cognitive abilities, but the world is shifting. It will be your choice to be at the head of it, or be laughed at as the demon who tried to take as much as she could before fleeing, figurative tail between her legs, once everything settles.”

She laughs, as do you, though yours is likely uneasy, shaky, and you’re somewhat worried that it showed. A hand extends towards you, and though you should have flinched, should have been worried this horrid creature has just assaulted you, yet you don’t flinch.

It’s especially an odd feeling when you extend your own hand to shake hers.

* * *

**== > Be the Newly Testified**

You’re really not sure how you get roped into this shit basically all the time. You live your life, fix people’s shitty car’s, make money, get bitches, and everything in between. Honestly, your life would probably be much more dull if it wasn’t for the sheer amount of shenanigans that your friends somehow manage to get themselves involved in on a bi-weekly basis.

This time, however, is different.

Usually these ‘shenanigans’ involve way too much booze and public intoxication, house parties that get way too out of hand, or other stupid, teenage bullshit that your group of friends probably should have grown out of a few years ago. You normally don’t mind it.

This one, however, you do mind. When you walk into an old library to find your younger brother unconscious, your best friend (boyfriend?) absolutely covered in his own blood, and the source of most of these shenanigans apparently unscathed, someone normal would probably think you’d have the right to panic, or to maybe react a little.

When you first walked into the library and Roxy’s first words to you were “I wonder if that will wash off,” and the first thing you saw was Jake looking like he had just taken a bath in red paint, your first reaction was to yell. That, however, only garnered the response from the two of them to tell you to ‘be quiet, we’re in a library’ followed by a lot of laughing on both parts.

You must have been completely dumbfounded, because when they told you what they had found downstairs, you couldn’t even feel your face contort into the appropriate expression. Likely because your face was already, very likely, contorted into a relatively horrified frown.

Roxy and Jake had already formulated a plan by the time you finally cleared your head of thoughts. It took you a good few minutes to wake Dave up, but he seemed to be just as confused as you were. You had filled him in on their plan, and as neither of you really had a better idea, you went with it.

Your hands grip tightly at the handles to your motorcycle, Jake’s arms wrapped tightly about your torso as the icy wind bit into you. You hadn’t thought to grab your jacket, as you intended to simply get home before night had fallen, though obviously, your plans had changed. It hadn’t been more than five minutes since Dave had gotten in Roxy’s pink Eclipse, and already you were feeling butterflies in your stomach, a disgusted feeling that something horrible was taking place, especially given what they found in the basement.

You had always known Rose to be into some weird shit, but this was on a complete other level. Jake gently nudges you which pulls you out of thought for a moment, though you glance upwards to find the road in front of you to be completely empty. You inhale sharply, frigid air invading your lungs yet again. A cursory glance behind you showed that Jake was motioning towards the side of the road, and you give a nod as a response. You could probably hear him if he were to tell you to pull over, especially given there is no traffic at all, but you suppose it’s not necessary. You were used to driving him around, after all.

With a final rev, you manage your way off the road and onto the side, and into a small cafe’s parking lot, after a moment’s notice. You lean your bike, which idles noisily until the final moment you turn it off, onto its kickstand beside another motorcycle. You undo the strap on your helmet, then turn around to face Jake who is doing the same with his, the white bandages sticking out quite obviously against his olive skin.

“What’s up?” Your words went through the silent night air, cutting through with no effort and echoing back to you after a small moment.

“Just needed to take a minute,” Jake’s eyes were locked onto yours, his face calm yet almost about to explode with concern. “You didn’t see what we saw, but it wasn’t, uh...”

You shake your head, shoving your hands into your pockets as you glance to the side for a moment, “How’s your hand? You said there wasn’t a wound, but before you changed clothes, you looked like you’d been murdered and come back to life.”

“Nothing. I’ve checked it several times over, and there’s not even any blood, not even a scar.” He trailed off for a moment, eyes glancing towards the small building you stopped at. “When we get back, I’ll show you. I just need to clear my head, now. I feel like when we get back, I’m going to just keep thinking about it over and over, and I’m not sure I can really handle that right now.”

He frowns, wide, and you pull your shades off for a moment, orange eyes practically glowing in the night. You take a step towards him, your forehead pressing against his. One of your arms snakes its way around his body, pulling him against yours in a small huddle of comfort.

“Hey,” you say in an extremely hushed whisper, almost reminiscent of a coo. “It’ll be alright, man. I’ll stay with you for as long as you need, yeah?” You tilt your head to the side, skin running against his, and you idly realize just how smooth he is.

The frown that plagued his lips slowly curved back upwards into a smile, warm and sincere, his bright green eyes coming to a close as he pushed himself gently into your warmth.

“It’s cold out here.” You pull off for just a moment, though your other arm wrapped about his shoulder, fingertips gently pressing into the nape of his neck. “You want coffee or something? Maybe something to eat?”

Upon hearing the offer of food or coffee, or perhaps anything warm, he pulls off of you, head craning to remove himself from your grasp. You let your arms fall back to your pockets, gently running a finger against your wallet. Jake’s head turned to the wide window that made up almost the entirety of the front of the building, then gently shrugged his shoulders. By the look on his face, though, he was definitely wanting something.

“C’mon. I’m buying, since I’ve gotta be a gentleman and all that chivalrous shit.” You laugh, and he follows suit with a warm chuckle beneath his breath.

“And they say chivalry is dead!” He balls his hand into a fist and gently hits against your shoulder, enough to knock you back for just a moment. You smile wide, as does he, before he extends his hand out to yours. You take it without a second thought.

The two of you walk into the small cafe, barely catching the name - The Owl’s Nest - as you walk in. It’s a really small building, with barely enough room to keep the three tables and surrounding chairs. The main ‘bar’ area took up a good fourth of the room, with a small opening where a door probably should have went, but for one reason or another wasn’t. The entire place was eggshell white, with blue and red specks on the floor to make it not quite so bland.

In the far corner were the only other people in what felt like miles around. Two girls, both of them around six feet tall and pale as fuck. The one on the right was wearing a black tank top and an extremely short pair of pants, though she had another thinner, black shirt underneath the tank top that actually wrapped down to her wrists. As well, a set of black tights that apparently served as her actual pants. In all honesty, she wasn’t bad looking, either. If you played for that team, you might have been really convinced to try and talk to her. That, and the bright red set of shades that too-closely resembled yours made you uneasy.

Her friend, however, looked like a huge bitch. She was pale, way too much to really be considered ‘pretty’ by your standards. Her lips were apparently etched into a near permanent scowl, and as you look her over, she glances your way and gives you the finger. You pull the side of your lip up into a smug smirk before taking a final glance at her attire. A dark blue trench coat, with a black shirt underneath, and a loose-fitting pair of jeans. You assume it’s their motorcycle you parked beside, and make a mental note to not fuck with them.

You clear your throat, then glance over to Jake who was already taking a seat by the bar. You pick the seat on his left, away from the two women, settling in with a bit of struggle. You immediately lean both arms onto the table, one hand propping up your chin before glancing towards your companion yet again.

“You talk to Jane recently?” As much as Jake maybe didn’t like it, she was still in your circle of friends, especially since you’re pretty sure that she and Roxy have something going on. It’d been a month or two since the breakup they had, but you know better than anyone how long it can take before someone could actually get over it. It was only a few months, but your life can change substantially in much less time than a few months.

“I, uh,” Jake started, his gaze moving straight ahead as he inhaled sharply for a moment, eyes coming to a close, “No. It’s been a week or two since we’ve talked, when she was getting her stuff from my place.” His hand moved to the bell that was on the counter, pressing it a few times to try and get someone’s attention - And probably to change the subject.

You clear your throat, your hand moving upwards to slick back your hair, “Yeah. You doing alright, by the way?”

He turned his head towards you for a moment, corner of his lips pulled into a halfhearted, almost fake smile, “I’ll be fine, as long as I’ve got you by my side. Being with Jane was fun for a while, but being with you just feels..” He inhaled sharply as a woman walked in from the back, though he glanced back just for a second, “I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a while.”

You grin, before the waitress takes both of your orders. Both you and Jake get a coffee, though his was black. You really have no idea how he even drank that shit that way, but if it’s what he wanted, it’s what he wanted. You glance up to the two in the corner, just to find the one in the coat looking directly at you. Your eyes squint, before you move to glance back towards Jake.

“Any idea what time it is?” Your voice almost cracked, almost, though you manage to hold it together. Something about the two girls in the corner almost seemed to scare you. It seemed a bit silly, however, as they had gone back to their own conversation.

Jake pulls an arm upwards, glancing at a small, inexpensive looking watch upon his wrist. He studies it for a few, short moments before putting his arm down. “I think this thing has gone and busted on me. Look at this.”

He extends his arm over to you, tilting his wrist so you could get a proper look at the watch. The second hand on it was spinning extremely quickly, going around a full revolution in a matter of a second or two, with both the minute and hour hand spinning around slower, but definitely not following a proper revolution.

You laugh slightly, barely managing to stifle it, “It’s like we’re in some shitty video game. First the electronics break, then the zombies and demons start breaking through the walls.” You smirk, giving a nod in thanks as the waitress comes out and sets your coffee down. “Maybe the battery overcharged or something. Can watches do that?”

“I’ve no idea, you’re the bloody engineer here,” Jake responded with a laugh, before grabbing his own coffee. He didn’t even give it a second to let it cool down before taking a massive, fast drink or six from the cup. He didn’t even flinch, and you’re honestly kind of impressed. You merely let yours sit there, gently stirring about a few sugars with a spoon.

“Well, whatever. Probably not a big deal, you bought that one for like three dollars anyway, right? Probably just faulty watch-making, or whatever you call that kind of craft.”

As a response, Jake merely lets out a muffled ‘mm’ in agreement, his hand moving to gently press against his forehead as if he were lost in thought. There’s a shuffling from the corner of the room, and as you glance up, the two girls walk by you almost in an extremely hurried manner. Probably late for something, or they realized how late in the day it actually was. The one in the glasses gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder as she passes, and you note how icy cold her skin was. You don’t blame her, given how cold it is outside.

Jake, grinning from ear to ear, gently pokes you on the cheek as the door opens and the two leave the building. You give a small glance to one side, your eyebrows raising as you see just how close to bursting out in laughter he is.

“Alright, I guess I’ll bite. Something funny? Is this when I look down and realize I’ve not been wearing pants the entire time?”

“Hah, just admiring how much of an absolute catch you must be if you’ve got absolute strangers just walking up to you and trying to get their hands on you.”

You admit, that brings a wide grin to your face as you finally start indulging on your coffee. You cast a glance behind you to find the two still out there, the one in the coat pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Figures, you suppose. You look back to Jake, who was finishing his coffee already.

“What can I say, man? When you’re as good looking and charismatic as I am, you just wake up covered in gents and ladies of all types. It’s a blessing and a curse.” You make a small flexing motion with your right arm, almost spilling your coffee in the attempt. This, as you would expect, causes Jake to finally start laughing.

“Good looking and charming, but an absolute klutz, is it?” His hand extends outwards to your hair, gently ruffling it, not that it could make it any messier than it already was. “Yeah, I think I can live with that.”

You raise your hand to his, grasping it from your hair and slowly lowering it to your side. You inhale through your nose, letting your eyes come to a close. You don’t know how long you sit there with him in silence, though after what you could only assume to be twenty or more minutes, he finally starts to stand up, stretching himself out in the process.

“You ready?” You say before you’re even standing up, stretching out as well. You turn around, almost shocked to find the girls are still out there, not doing much of anything. Not your business, though, you assume.

“Yeah, if you are. My place or yours?” He asks as if it’s even a question, as you’d much prefer his house than your shitty, small apartment. You could definitely afford better, but you like having the money to throw around as you please.

“Your place. I haven’t cleaned in forever.” Good excuse, and it looks like he buys it as he extends his bandaged hand, indicating for you to go first. You don’t respond, instead merely taking the lead as a hand moves into your pocket to grab your keys, looping the ring about a finger and spinning it as you both exit the little building.

The air is still frigid, and much worse than it was earlier. Thirty or so minutes really made a difference as the both of you climb onto the motorcycle. It takes a second or two for it to actually start up, which you equate to just how cold it is outside. You put your helmet on, and Jake follows suit, before you pull up the kickstand and give it a test rev. You smirk as the two girls notice you, and almost seem impressed with your bike before you turn it around, and then pull onto the highway.

You spend a minute or two on the road in blissful silence, the drive not even entering your thoughts as you’ve done it so many times in the past. The road, as it was before you pulled off originally, is completely devoid of anyone else.

“Dirk!” You’re almost taken off guard, casting a small glance behind you before turning your head forwards yet again. “My watch is working again, and according to this, it’s eight P.M!” He laughs, and though you can just barely hear him, you laugh in response. Kind of cute, given the circumstance. It’s always really nice how he can always seem to make you smile.

Silence once again takes over the night, the only noise that fills the air is the roar of the engine from your motorcycle. Jake’s arms wrap tightly about your waist, his head pressing against your back and almost rubbing gently against you. You smile wide, casting a glance back just to look at him, but something else catches your way.

Somewhat far off, in the distance, is another headlight. You shrug it off, though you’re surprised that anyone else is on the road at this time at night. You glance down to see how fast you’re going, then slow to the proper speed limit. If it was a cop, you’d really hate to get into any shit tonight, especially given everything else that’s gone on. Shit’s way too weird and stressful, already.

It only takes a minute before the light behind you pulls up beside of you, which is extremely odd and definitely dangerous. It’s a motorcycle, that much is sure, though you can barely make out the figure on top of it. You squint your eyes, just before they pass under a streetlight.

It’s the two girls from the cafe, and you’re more than a little weirded out. The thought doesn’t stick for long, however, as you realize the one in the coat who was riding on the back is currently pointing a gun towards you.

“Holy shit!” You cuss, loudly, breaking sharply just in time to hear a loud explosion erupt through the night. You hear Jake yell something, though you have no idea what he’s even said as you pull yourself off into the first turn you can find. You pull your bike up to what can only be described as ludicrous speed, though as quickly as you had lost them previously, you can see the headlight of the other bike starting to gain on you.

Another loud explosion, and a horrible, ‘whooshing’ noise went straight past your head. You cuss under your breath, before you give a glance to Jake, making sure he’s okay. When you’re sure he is, you breath a sigh of relief, before collecting your thoughts.

“Jake!” He glances up for a moment, just as you start to push your motorcycle as hard as it could. “Your gun! Shoot back, maybe they’ll leave us the fuck alone!”

“What do they even want?! What did we do?!” His yell pierces through the night, and though you understand him, you’re not even sure you can properly hear him.

“Damned if I know, but it doesn’t matter at this point!” You turn a corner almost too sharp, but manage to catch yourself and straighten it out, though the two girls had managed to catch up beside of you.

You feel Jake quickly pull himself upright, before a loud eruption came from directly behind. You glance sideways, just to find that they had slowed down, but another shot came from them. You felt your bike twitch, then hear something loud pop, and with a crack, you’re almost sure that you can see sparks coming from behind your bike.

“Jake! Do something! Anything!” Your voice was almost desperate, pleading, as you see him raise his arm towards them yet again, a blinding flash erupting from the barrel of the gun that was hidden in the darkness. You aren’t sure if he hit one of them, but they quickly peeled off sharply and vanished behind a building as you continued forwards, taking a glance behind.

Yeah, they definitely just destroyed your bike, or at least one of the tires or something. You’re trailing sparks, and the handling is almost impossible by this point. You come to a slow, then a stop, and both you and Jake quickly hop off of the motorcycle. You grab his hand, letting your bike fall over before you’re already at full sprint, hand grasping at your own concealed carry beneath your shirt.

“Dirk! What the bloody hell is this, did we just kill someone?!” Jake’s voice didn’t seem nervous, necessarily, more concerned over what the hell had just happened.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t the one shooting. Did you hit one of them?” You realized quickly what you had just said, and you almost feel like a dick for half-pinning the blame on him. “I mean, they shot first, we were just in self defense, right?”

Jake slipped, barely managing to catch himself and keep up with your pace, your hand still tightly gripping his, “We need to get somewhere... Call the cops or something! They just tried to... Tried to fucking shoot us!”

You’re almost impressed, as Jake never cussed. You catch yourself pretty fast, as now definitely wasn’t the time to be doing that kind of thinking, however. “Parking garage coming up, we can make it there fast if we just run. C’mon, just- Go!” You point forwards to a large building, which was most obviously a garage. “Place is big enough, we can hide until we’re sure they’re gone.”

There was most definitely no protest from Jake as you both ran for what must have been at least two minutes, before ducking inside and going up to the second floor just for good measure, hiding behind a massive concrete support beam on the far side of the lot. Out of breath, it almost feels like your heart is going to explode out of your chest, one of your eyes shut as you can barely fathom even moving anymore.

Jake seems to be almost the same way, but given how much more athletic he is, he was already on his phone, tapping at buttons.

“Well…” You barely manage to breath out, trying to talk in a whisper but barely able to control your voice regardless. “You, uh, getting the police?”

Jake’s fingers rapidly smash against the buttons, quickly and precise, his eyes widening as his head slowly pulls upwards to look you in the eyes. You barely manage to meet his gaze, still gasping desperately for breath as he shakes his head.

“Phone died. It was at almost half charge and it just died out of nowhere. It... makes no sense.” You’ve never seen Jake like this before, and for him to seem actually worried makes your heart jump into your throat more than it was already.

You open your lips to speak, to get anything that could maybe comfort him out, to just ease the pressure, but you stop short when you hear another voice that wasn’t yours nor Jake’s. It’s just barely audible, but it’s coming from below you, from the first floor of the parking garage.

“...sure they came in here? Kind of a shitty hiding spot...”

“Told you they... The tracer I put on him is still...”

Tracer? You slowly glance to your shoulder, as does Jake, before you both realize that a small, almost spider-like black orb is sitting atop. Your hand slowly raises to grab it, before you chuck it over the side of the building. Tracers? What the fuck, are you being chased by the goddamned government or something, now? You stand up, as does Jake, though he quickly moves to a beam on the other corner of the building. Both of you grab your guns, and you’re not even sure you could shoot it straight with how badly your hands are shaking.

The obvious sound of feet stepping against concrete eventually fills the air around the both of you, and though you were shaking merely a few seconds ago, you’re as still as you’ve ever been in your life. They take a few more steps, and you can barely make out where they are, but you assume them to be near the center of the parking garage You glance over to Jake, and he looks back at you, before you give him a rather unsure nod. He gives you a nod back, and moves to the side of the beam where you can’t see him.

You inhale sharply, your eyes squeezing shut as you prepare to turn the corner. You’re almost too terrified to do so, idling for as long as you’re able.

“Right.” The voice is shrill and high pitched, almost painful to your ears as it echoes about in the empty space. “I’ll take the right, and you take the left.”

“Try not to kill him without me. Kanaya and her Master were pretty clear that we’re just looking for English. Anyone else who gets in our way is ours to do what we will, though.” This one’s voice was smooth, almost elegant and alluring. You might actually really like listening to her given some other circumstance.

You hear them take another step forwards, before you finally manage to gather up all your courage. You grit your teeth and tighten the grip on your revolver. You take a few quick steps around the beam, raising the gun upwards to be out in front of you, before aiming it properly at the two who were much farther away than you actually expected, at least fifteen feet.

“Hands up! I’ve got a gun and I’m not afraid to use this thing!” Thank fuck your voice didn’t crack like you thought it was going to. “Make any moves and I’ll-” Your voice cracked that time, though you clear it and glance to the both of them. Definitely the two girls from The Owl’s Nest. “I’ll blow you both away so hard, you’ll be splatter on the pavement. Now why the _fuck_ were you shooting at us?”

The two cast a glance towards each other, and the one in the jacket has her hands on her hips. She laughs, quite loudly, before raising both of her hands to around her midsection, palms facing outwards. The one in the glasses doesn’t even really move, though her lips curl up into a wide smile. You can’t quite see, but it almost looks like she has razor sharp teeth. What the hell is wrong with these two?

“Terezi,” the one with the smooth voice starts, “Doesn’t this one look like the one we’re not supposed to be killing?” She cranes her neck towards her companion.

“I think so, Vriska, but it’s not him. This one’s actually got a bit of fight in him.” She laughs again, slowly moving her head towards the beam where Jake was hidden behind.

“I said hands up! Eyes on me, asshole! Answer the fucking question!” You point your gun towards the one called Terezi, eyes squinting though your shades make it a bit hard to properly see. You make a small motion with your hands, before you point it towards Vriska, who doesn’t seem pleased as you do.

“Alright, kid. I’ll give you one chance to put it down and walk away. Because contrary to some things, you ain’t the one we’re looking for.” Vriska slowly pulled her right arm upwards, turning her pointer finger and thumb into a ‘gun’ with her hand, before pointing it towards you. “But if you keep acting like a righteous brat, I’m gonna have to pull the trigger on you. Is that clear?”

You scoff. It was almost laughable, though you suppose you really shouldn’t take this lightly. After all, they had already shot at you at least three times tonight, and they had already admitted they were planning on killing you. You scowl, tilting your head towards the pillar Terezi was still eyeing you.

“Jake!”

* * *

**== > Be The Wild One**

You turn from the beam quickly. Your M1911 firmly pressed between your hands as you had always been taught, just to find the two girls from earlier in front of you, and your boyfriend pointing his gun towards them. As if on queue, you follow suit.

Vriska glances your way, just for a moment, her scowl turning immediately into a grin as she very gently nudges Terezi, who also glances your way and smirks.

“Well, that simplifies this immensely,” Vriska starts, before she turns her eyes back on Dirk. “Would you like to see some magic, child? You look like a fan of magic tricks. I’ll show you something neat.” You see Dirk raise his eyebrows, confusedly, before he goes stiff. Extremely stiff. Vriska’s freehand had also extended outwards, opened wide but slowly starting to close in as Dirk’s glasses fell off, bouncing off the floor with a clack, his eyes wracked open in fear.

His limbs tremble, as if fighting an invisible force, an unseen struggle unfolding right in front of your eyes. He strains, incredibly so, tendons sticking out against his neck and teeth clenching with the effort he seems to be exerting. Beads of sweat gather on his temple, running down the side of his face, his tangerine eyes flitting about frantically, as if searching for something.

They come to land on Vriska, the visage of them carrying outright terror in their depths.

His revolver, which he had originally pointed at the duo, was now held lazily in his hand which was leaning against his side. His eyes continued growing wide, before he stared up at the two of them, then to you.

“Dirk?!” You yell, though he just starts to grin extremely wide, uncharacteristically and unnervingly so. The twisted smile makes your skin crawl, chills travelling down the length of your spine and unease settling in your gut. Even slower than he had dropped his weapon, his arm started to raise up again, though he wasn’t pointing the gun towards Vriska or Terezi.

**He was pointing it at himself.**

The gun pressed against the side of his head, finally, as you frantically started looking between Vriska and Dirk. Her opened hand had completely closed, though she had raised her finger ‘gun’ towards him, one eye closed as if she were aiming at him.

“Stop it! Stop whatever you’re doing!” You yelled out, gripping your gun tightly as your teeth gritted extremely hard against each other. “I mean it! Don’t make me-”

“Jake.”

The voice stopped you dead in your tracks, though you refused to let your aim down from Vriska. The revolver barrel pressed distressingly hard into Dirk’s flesh, his head tilting slightly as tears started rolling from his eyes. The trembling never ceased, his body outright wracking itself with how much he was shaking. The manic, unnatural grin on his face served as a disturbing contrast to his tears.  

His voice came out broken, a barely there whisper, a last murmur on the wind as his body seemingly worked against his own will. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

Your blood turns to ice.

Vriska’s fingers retract in, as if pulling a trigger. She makes a clicking noise with her tongue, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a devious, unforgiving smirk. The sight of sharp incisors peaks out as she does so.  

The silence of the air is suddenly filled with two gunshots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Shoggoth - Realm of Darkness


	4. Stulti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that thing about me writing at a literal snail's pace? That still stands true. A million apologies for how late this is, however. I hope you all are happy with the update, regardless of how short I think it is. Also, no R'lyehian translations this chapter. My editor must be so happy.

**== > Be The Struggling Optimist**

You’ve got a pretty good life, all things considered. Your family is one fucked up story after another, with each seeming to have a longer list of medical issues or even just straight mental disabilities, but you try your best to stay positive. It’s healthier, you’ve always been told, to look at things with a smile and to not consider the negative to be all encompassing. It’s true, or maybe you’ve just lived like this so long that you’ve convinced yourself, but it’s definitely been much harder to keep a positive attitude. Especially given today’s circumstance.

Your sister, Rose, had seemingly just fallen off the face of the Earth. You’d asked around Arkham, but it seemed that nobody in the city who would have known her had any idea where she could have disappeared to. This wasn’t entirely uncommon for your sister, you suppose, but something felt... Much more sinister. Something completely out of your control, out of your sister’s. Out of anyone’s control. You’ve felt that way for a while, though, and everything seems to always manage itself out in the end, regardless. Even though you tell yourself that everything is going to be okay, that there must be some logical explanation for what’s going on, even as you reassure your half-brother that everything is fine, that Rose couldn’t have possibly been the one who did that..

You still find yourself glancing back towards the library, even as you drive off in the opposite direction of DIrk and Jake, even as you mentally reassure yourself that everything is fine..

“Hey,” Dave starts, half-buried in the seat as he tries to press himself as far back as he can manage himself. His lips are barely parted, and if you hadn’t heard his voice, it wouldn’t have even seemed like he had said anything at all.

“Yeah?” Your response came out on an exasperated breath, regaining your composure as you pull your car out and onto the road. Even with the streetlights turned on and illuminating the darkness, you still turn your car’s headlights on, which extend about twenty or thirty feet before dissipating into the encroaching void.

“You don’t need to stay with me, you know,” but even as the words leave his lips, his gaze turns to yours, almost desperately, as if dying to beg you to not leave, to accompany him into whatever happens. You put on a half-serious face, before reverting your eyes to the road and finally starting to move.

“Where’s your apartment?” You can practically hear the sigh of relief escape from him, and though he doesn’t actually make a noise, he definitely slides downwards in the seat a few inches or so. You flash a quick grin, phasing him out as he gives you instructions on where to go. You visit often enough to know exactly where he lives, if only to make sure that he gets some kind of human interaction, or to clean up his place a little.

You always found it so odd that his apartment is usually a mess, as if a tornado had made its way through it to toss any and everything not nailed down about haphazardly.

“Gotta swing by my place after I drop you off, if you don’t mind. Grab some clothes, maybe something for dinner,” you glance down to your car’s radio which had a digital clock built into it. Eleven fifteen. It didn’t seem that late when you had arrived at the library, but you suppose the events that transposed definitely could equate to you losing all track of time.

“No problem,” he tried to seem nonchalant,  but you’re sure you heard his voice cracking, if only for a minute. Behind his sunglasses, you can barely make out his bright red eyes, half-lidded, expression as if he were lost in a thought so severe he couldn’t bear to lay it in front of you. You turn your eyes back to the road, lips parting for just a second.

“Roxy,” And his eyes were on you again, glasses having fallen to the tip of his nose and just barely balancing on his face. In the fog, snow, and moonlight, he was bright, almost painfully so. The way the stars and light glistened off of his unnaturally pale skin almost made you jealous. “What do you think that was all about downstairs?”

You brake for a second, natural smile slowly starting to form downwards into a frown. You quickly resume proper speed.. Which is to say, five miles an hour over the speed limit. For a while, the car is silent, as you don’t have an answer for him. The blade that had clearly impaled Jake’s hand, the carcass..

Then you remembered what happened afterwards. From the stab wound, almost as if it were an origin of disease, Jake’s veins had started to filter black. Dave was unconscious and Jake was panicking, but you’re sure you saw the blue in his arms, which was light, faint, barely visible, turn as black as the night sky was now.

“Do you want to stop somewhere,” you say after a long while. If Dave was annoyed by you not answering the question, he didn’t show it. Instead, the same fear that had been on his face the entire night resumed, forcing itself apparent. “A gas station or something? I need to fill up anyway, but we can wait until I’ve got you back at your place.”

He shifts, perhaps uneasy at the question for one reason or another. He glances out the window, then towards your radio, as if mulling the question over in his head a thousand times, rehearsing the perfect answer.

“I don’t have any money.”

You stifle a yawn, taking a short moment to glance at him for just a moment, trying to keep him reassured while also looking at the road. “Hey, don’t worry. Grab a drink or something, I’ll cover it.”

“Roxy, that’s really nice, but I- I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Hey,” You say, perhaps a bit too loudly, as he’s taken off guard, head turning to you slowly, almost as if he were cowering away from the sheer force of your voice. You stop for a moment, giving a sympathetic frown before continuing, “Don’t worry about it, like I said. I don’t mind. Far be it from me to brag,” You smirk, “But I can pay for whatever you want. Really.”

He seemed content with that, going back to looking out the window, arms crossed in front of his chest. It was quiet for a while, the only noise being the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional car that passed yours. It was a very uneasy silence, letting your thoughts once more return to you, once more return to the theories of your sister and the horrid things you had seen within her library.

“Feel free to sit out here in the car, if you want.” The words echoed within your vehicle, more of a customary thing than anything. “Or, you can walk in with me. Grab something to eat. Gas station food isn’t exactly amazing, but if you’re desperate..” You laughed, fake and quiet, “I haven’t eaten today. Have you?”

He seemed to think about the question for a moment, eyes moving downwards to your car’s radio, likely to check the clock. He shook his head, and though you noticed, he didn’t respond until a few seconds afterwards.

“I haven’t.” Straight and to the point.

It took another minute or three to actually come across the gas station you were aiming for, a quiet little store that was perhaps off the beaten path, but one that you found yourself coming back to over and over. Back in your prime you would have maybe thought it an insult to have come to a place as ragged and downtrodden as this, but now, you merely enjoyed the simple things. You let yourself give a small grin as you pulled beside the pump.

Both doors opened almost simultaneously, with Dave (and yourself) apparently eager to get something in your stomachs. The cashier wasn’t behind the register, but a rustling in the back room gave indication that someone was, indeed, here. You settled on a cheap, premade burger while he grabbed a burrito. Truthfully, you thought this stuff was disgusting, but your stomach was already pleading with you for anything.

Money exchanged hands, and Dave leaned back against a wall as you pumped your gas. He crossed his arms and kicked a single leg up, frown forced upon his face as if it had been permanently etched onto his features. You merely cast him a glance for a moment, slowly inhaling the crisp, cool air.

“Do you even work, Roxy?” His voice pierced the silence, though you were truthfully barely able to even comprehend the question. You glance up, a somewhat surprised look on your face. It wasn’t often that Dave initiated conversation.

“Not anymore,” The answer came from your lips before you could really think it through, “But I’ve still got shares in quite a few things. Makes it easy to not have to work when I’m getting a pretty decent amount just for existing.” You didn’t want to flaunt, and that answer was at least partially true. It’d be good enough for him, hopefully.

He merely nodded in response, seeming to loosen his position, “I didn’t take you for someone who played like that.” His lips seemed to almost pull upwards into a smile, at least for a few seconds. “Took you more for the type to just breeze through and have people throw everything at you.”

“Oh, they definitely do that,” And you both laugh. It was refreshing, being able to joke around given the circumstance. “You need to have a backup plan, though. Like, what happens if suddenly people run out of things to throw at me? After a while, that stuff would start to pile up.” You tried your best to sound serious, though laughter was evident in your voice.

It went quiet again, though Dave was at least smiling. He’d had a rough day, and you were glad that you could at least have made it a little better. You inhaled sharply, taking in the night air for just a second longer before beckoning him over, unlocking your car doors. You enter immediately, though your companion takes a few seconds longer before climbing into the car.

There’s silence in the car as you pull out, silence as you get back onto the road and silence as once more, the only light that fills your car is the stars, the moon, and the occasional streetlamp that you pass by. Deciding to take it slow, you try to pull yourself about five miles below the speed limit, though you quickly find yourself speeding up over and over. Your lips pull into a smile as you glance to your passenger once more.

“It’ll be alright, Dave.” You mutter.

Barely a whisper, you can just only make out what his reply is.

“God, I hope so.”

* * *

 His apartment is, just as you remember it; kind of a dump. You’re parked on the outside curb, letting him grab his stuff and shut your door. You’ve already rolled down the window as he leans down, poking his head into your car.

“Hey,” You start, leaning back into the seat with a single arm wrapped about the steering wheel. Given the situation, you’re sure that your bright pink car sticks out like a sore thumb, and you’re definitely not against that. It even makes you feel kind of like a badass. “I’m gonna drive to my place real quick, grab a few things. Shouldn’t be ten minutes.”

He gave a nod, bright red eyes seemingly gleaming as his sunglasses fell to the tip of his nose. “Forget how close you live, sometimes. I hardly ever visit.” He put on a smile, though it was obviously fake, as if he were regretful of what he said the moment it left his lips. “We should hang out sometime.”

You offer him a thumbs up, both of you raising a hand to wave each other goodbye. He takes a step back, turning, and you sit and wait for him to actually make it inside the building before you pull out into the road again. Alone in the car, it’s almost as if you can barely concentrate, straining to keep all your effort on keeping your eyes upon the road.

You go to extend a hand down towards your radio, hoping to play something - anything - just to have something in the background, when the display suddenly changes, and a loud jingle starts echoing through your car. You glance down for just a moment, realizing that your phone, which you had plugged into your car, was getting a call.

The monitor flashed on brightly, with four words appearing on the screen that made you uneasy, nervous, for some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Call From: Jake English.

* * *

  **== > Be the Accursed Librarian**

Things are definitely progressing, and though you aren’t truly sure where the current events are leading you, you find yourself struggling to decide whether this is a good or a bad thing. The small warehouse that you had essentially ‘conquered’ was certainly shaping up to be quite something, and though your cultists made themselves scarce in your presence, as you had requested, you still caught an odd glance here or there as they made improvements to your fortress. A sly smirk crossed your lips, entire form almost melting back into your throne, which had also been quite improved from a glorified bar-stool.

You had already created a very steady supply of demons, and though they didn’t always obey your command to the letter, the smaller, easier to summon ones were plentiful and served as cheap labor. A few of your followers may have turned on their heels, ran when they saw what they were truly serving, but their deaths served the greater good. A few damned souls here and there made opening portals easier, and though you all but refused the lesser demons within your ‘throne room’, Kanaya still sat at your side, almost melding within the shadow that overtook the large, empty room.

Violet eyes mulled over her for a moment, noting that her eyes were closed and she was sitting in a meditative position. Though it took some concentration, you almost got the feeling that she were locked in conversation with her own mind, perhaps running over her options again and again, playing what could happen and what would be the likely course of actions given those situations. Perhaps not, however, as demons were very tricky beings, something that you had quickly come to learn. More likely, she was communicating with someone else. You’d have to learn that trick, as the uses could be phenomenally useful.

She had asked to feed, much earlier, as the summoning sickness had apparently gotten the best of her. At first you had obvious apprehensions, and had merely directed her to one of the many cultists wandering around, but she had almost seemed offended. ‘A demon of proper tastes and elegance,’ she had said. Thinking of it once again caused a smile to form upon your lips, your body shifting slightly, causing a ruffling of plush and feathers upon your throne. It was a compliment, you had decided, and you had told her that you would think it over before giving her a proper answer. It would cause her to recover more quickly, certainly, though you couldn’t stop looking at the rows of razor sharp teeth that she had called her ‘fangs’.

“How much do you need?” Your voice echoed within the darkness, apparently taking her by surprise as her eyes cracked open quickly, head angling towards you with her mouth hanging slightly open. “As in,” Your voice croaked, just barely audible as you continued, “Would I be in any serious harm? Would I turn into..” You trail off.

“Only if I intended to.” She sounded clear and concise, the uncertainty in her expression having all but faded within a moment’s notice. “If you’re not aware of how it works, we have... venom, of sorts. One to stop struggling prey, one to kill, and one to change.” Her hand moved upwards to your arm, delicately wrapping about your wrist in a single fluid motion. Icy fingers slowly pulled your arm down to her, though her cat-like eyes pulled back up to you. “There is no risk. I would not harm my Summoner.”

You grit your teeth. That would have to do. Reluctantly, your hand slid open, wrist nudging gently against the corner of her mouth, to which she smiled wide, and despite the rows of shark-like teeth that you knew were in her mouth, for a moment it appeared as if only her two massive canines were visible, if only for a moment, before they sank deep within your flesh.

At once, pain overtook your entire body. For a moment you maintain your composure, but only for that single moment before your free hand grasps at the arm of your throne, the other doing it’s best to pull away from the vampire with all your might, though it clearly wasn’t doing much. Kanaya’s other arm slowly trailed its way up your now trembling figure, resting gently, delicately, upon your forearm, mouth still wrapped firmly upon the wound she had created.

Fear had started to rack your mind, your Fight or Flight deciding that yes, now was the time to run as far as you could, to abandon this entirely, that you had gotten yourself in way over your head, to never look back and pray and beg that what you had wrought never truly came to fruition. You moved to stand, trembling legs barely holding you though the demon quickly rose to meet you, pushing you back down onto a mass of feathers and cushion. Slowly at first, then extraordinarily quickly as it moved through your entire body, there was suddenly a very, very warm sensation, as if you had just ingested something immensely alcoholic.

Her body rested upon yours, pushing you as far back into your throne as was possible, her arms moving to grasp at both of your wrists, though the one with the wound was brought back up to her lips. Slowly, almost as if she had meant to be seductive, her tongue flicked against your wrist, small glances of minuscule razors upon her tongue clouding your thoughts for a moment before the immense heat took over your veins again. The hand without the wound wrestled against her grasp, moving upwards to interlock her fingers within yours, latching on hard as she continued to drain.

Without a single notice, aside from her tongue glancing once more against your wrist, which had turned raw and bloody, almost disgusting to look at, she pulled herself off of you, though her body stayed upon yours. You were suddenly aware of just how tired you felt, how blurry your vision and thoughts were, though with the warmth that remained inside of you, you weren’t truly sure you cared, especially as she pulled your arm up. A slow, icy finger traced against your wrist which she had, apparently, mangled, the flesh seeming to weave itself back together slowly, though the pain felt as if it were rending apart all over. After a single, fleeting moment, all that remained to show that there was a wound at all were two small holes upon your wrist, which already appeared to be scabbing over.

You opened your mouth to speak, eyes halfway rolled into your head as you exhaled sharply, finding your breathing ragged, lungs begging to be filled with air. Swallowing hard, your eyes go up and down her form, and despite her having requested some rather extravagant dress (at least, given what you could obtain), she had managed to have two or three red streaks stain down her garb. A pity, you’d have to request some new attire for your companion. Your lips pulled into a smirk at the thought, still somewhat able to maintain some composure, your violet eyes locking onto her slitted ones just to find her unbreathing figure hovering over you, pulling closer to you yet again. Where you had thought it odd when you shook hands with the contract demon, to find a part of your essence perhaps being put up for bid should you not be able to hold up your end of the bargain, it seemed almost completely and utterly natural as your lips pressed against Kanaya’s.

You truly knew not what brought this on, though your body, almost involuntarily, moved to start wrapping your free arm about the demon’s cold, tall, slender form. Her horns nudged against your head as she turned, almost threatening to gore you though they moved with a spectral grace that never allowed them to come as close to you to make you uncomfortable. Though one of her hands remain trapped within your own, her other moved upwards to grasp at your blonde hair, forcing your head upwards as she essentially dragged your gaze to match hers. Your eyes were quickly forced shut as she jammed her mouth against yours, her snakelike tongue exploding into your mouth and forcing it about. For a single moment your mind flashed back to seeing those small micro-razors that covered her tongue abound, though after a moment of not feeling anything, you let it pass your mind.

You sure could taste blood, though, and you shudder to think that it’s your own blood you’re tasting. A small whine echoes from your throat and into Kanaya’s mouth, and though you’re barely at a struggle, she stops for a single moment, enough time for you to pull back off of her, gasping and begging for breath. Small bits of blood escape from your mouth as you force yourself into locking eyes with this predator. At a glance, it almost seemed as if she had some form of concern upon her face, her eyes widening slightly as you struggled against her, though she also seemed a hunter content with toying about with her prey.

She cleared her throat, glancing down at your body, then at her own, swallowing somewhat hard. “Miss Lalonde,” She started, with a sharp inhalation that was likely all for show given that she was more than likely undead, “I promised to not hurt you. Am I hurting you?” The words flowed smoothly, though with how she spoke, she seemed more as a child who was worried she had accidentally offended someone. Her head tilted just barely to one direction, ebony horns raising and curling into the darkness.

You did not, dared not, could not speak for a long while, what seemed like an eternity to you and probably longer to the demon who rested on top of you. You mulled the options over in your head for as long as you could manage, the heat within your veins slowly starting to die down with every passing moment. Your lips once more opened, though no words came out, and instead, you buried your head down into Kanaya’s shoulder. Perhaps once, long ago, you would have started crying, but you were far, far too deep into this entire mess to begin having second thoughts now.

“Fine. I was just... Taken by surprise. You are very delicate when you intend to be, and...” A hand moved to gently brush your hair where her fingers had grasped earlier, “And very forceful. Very, very forceful.” You could feel your cheeks warming, but with Kanaya having drained you earlier, your vision had started spinning from exertion. You pulled a hand up, gently pressing against her chest, upwards, to push her off of you, and she obliged, kneeling at your side where she had been what seemed like ages ago. “We’ll have to get you a throne,” You almost choked the words out, “A smaller one, but still.” You pulled yourself back up to your feet, taking a shaky step forwards and glancing back to the demon.

“Sorry.” Your words were barely a mumble, voice shaky and unsure even as you let them escape your lips. “I hope I didn’t ruin your opinion of me.” You cleared your throat, turning yourself around, “I’ll be back in a moment. I need some air, some time to... clear my head.” You turned your head, spitting upon the ground a blob of your own blood, and whether it was from the wound you had sustained or the demon who had swapped both spit and blood with you a moment ago, you were unsure. You took a few steps to gauge just how sturdy you were, before taking a step out the door and into the darkness. A few cultists on the outside, dressed in wild, purple robes with faces that you cared not to remember bowed at your presence. You had forgotten just how busy you had been with recruiting, given the ten or so demons you had already introduced into the world.

You weren’t having second thoughts, not at all. Your mind was filled with thoughts of the vampire who was left behind in that room, who just moments ago had you at your most vulnerable. Quiet footfalls, as if you were floating, barely made those around aware as you made your way to another section of the fort that you had started constructing. With how quickly the construction was happening, it wouldn’t be long before people started to take notice, though you had picked a relatively remote area. With a heavy sigh, you found yourself upon the door to a room you had assigned as a bath. Of course, you had a personal one, but you couldn’t dare step back into that room knowing that the demon remained, likely waiting to try at you again. With a silent prayer, you really hoped they had finished this room already.

A frail hand moved upwards, grasping at the doorknob, turning it, and pushing it open with a little bit of effort. You stepped into the darkness, shutting the door and flipping the lightswitch, though it apparently had no effect as the room only remained illuminated by scarce candlelight. With a sigh, you turned around, just to find yourself in a flurry of bright, white feathers. You blinked, as if to clear your eyes, hands coming up to rub the sleep from them. As you cleared your vision, a voice rang out, raspy and deep, louder than what should have been easily accomplishable from the area you were in.

“Our dear little Rose, trapped within a vicious cycle of struggle and hatred.” At that, a single spotlight appeared in front of you, with two more quickly turning on. Confused, you turned your head, finding the door behind you had disappeared. As you turned your head back, within the spotlight was a singular being, taller than even Kanaya, wearing a purple suit with an oversized purple top hat and a magenta feather sticking out of it. His face was completely covered in white makeup, the eyes and mouth covered in gray as if he were some sort of demented clown. He pulled his hat off, a mop of messy black hair raining down around him as he did a rather dramatic bow, hat in tow, though his head tilted up to look her in the eyes.

Something in the back of your mind screamed that you were in a pocket dimension, and though you had no prior cognisance that this would actually be the case, a vague sense of clairvoyance was only but one of the tools the Old One gifted you once you became his disciple. Even more so, the person standing in front of you, dressed as if he were some sort of carnival ringmaster, definitely exuded an aura, though you couldn’t necessarily tell that it was demonic or not. Rather, it was an aura of power, that you were staring down someone of much greater strength and will than yourself.

“Hello, little flower. You may call me the Firstborn. Welcome to my pocket dimension, commonly referred to as Skaia, or perhaps,” his lips pulled from his wide, welcoming smile into a hateful frown, filled with contempt and his eyes cold with murder, “The Dark Carnival.”

Unimpressed, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, half-conscious that you were hiding the bit of blood that had fallen upon your garb during... whatever that was, earlier, with the vampire. Violet eyes became half lidded as you gauged the person in front of you, and though malicious, he certainly didn’t seem necessarily hostile.

Demons sure were odd folk. Perhaps it was time to make a new ally?


	5. Inanis Incus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Old Gods rewards those who are willing to serve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to [DestineyTot](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DestineyTot) for editing these chapters and coding in the pesterlogs. She expedites the process of actually updating this story by quite a bit. 
> 
> As always, R'lyehian translations can be seen by hovering over the text. Mobile users will have translations in the end notes.  
> Music links for setting themes are underlined.

**== > Be the Struggling Optimist**

“What the fuck?”

That had been your response for at least twenty minutes as Jake managed through ragged breaths, through horrid, disgusting sobs, that Dirk had shot himself.

“What the fuck?” You manage to cough out again, the only noise filling your ears being your car’s roaring engine as you rushed through the darkness of the city.

“There was two- Two bloody... I don’t even know what they were! They were just _girls_ , Roxy! But they had horns! One of them had a tail, and the other... She turned to fucking _ash_ when I shot her.”

“You fucking shot someone?” You yell, perhaps a bit too loud considering how close you were to the microphone which worked by syncing itself to your phone. “Listen, I’m- I’m pulling up on the garage where you were at. You said there was two, right? Where did the other one go? Did you call the police yet?”

“Yes, because I can completely explain to the police that two goth girls with fake horns who turn to ash when they die trailed us on a motorcycle and shot my best friend. That will completely, one hundred percent go down just fine, Roxy!” He was yelling back, though his voice was shaking, and you could hardly blame him. With how icy the night air was, and given the circumstance, you were shaking extremely badly too. You grit your teeth as you pulled into the garage, deciding to go up floor by floor to find your friend.

“She... Ran away.” Jake seemed unsure of what he had just said, his voice barely coming through from your phone. “She rummaged about in the ashes and pulled out... I don’t know, a marble? I didn’t get a good look at it. Said something about ‘letting me go’ because of my ‘badass friend’ managing to almost overcome her… Listen, Roxy, you don’t even believe this malarkey, do you? You think I’m bonkers, right?”

“Jake, I-”

“You think I killed him, don’t you, Roxy?”

“I don’t!” You scream, louder than you thought your vocal chords would have allowed you. “I don’t, Jake. Just- Calm down. Breathe. In and out, c’mon, it’ll... Be... Alright…” The final few words were barely choked out, a few tears managing to form under your eyes and slide slowly down your cheek. “I think I see you. Just...” You turn off the call as you pull up to him, letting the sentence fall short, and before you know it, you’re somehow outside, on your knees, in front of one of your best friend’s corpse.

In front of your half-brother. Your family.

You reach down, gently trying to rouse Dirk’s body in some vain attempt to see if he shifted, moved at all, but all you managed to do was smear the bright red blood that had already coated the majority of his white-blonde hair. You glance up to Jake, who was sitting back with one leg sitting upright and a hand resting on his knee. Judging by how he looked, he had already tried everything in the book to bring him back. His green attire was absolutely covered in a dull red, and his mouth was smeared with blood.

“Jake, I,” you try to choke something, anything out of your throat, but nothing escapes. The icy wind rushes suddenly, causing the tears that were welling within your eyes to become cold, almost stinging against your flesh. “What do we do?” You can barely whisper the question out, and Jake doesn’t respond. He merely picks himself up, absolutely covered in blood, before looking around him for a moment.

“We... Get him to a hospital. He… He’s gone, but I can’t think of anything else to do.” His eyes were red, obviously from where he had been crying, and that image alone sent chills down your spine. You had never seen him cry before, as he was always the friendly big guy who would face down his problems man to man. He grits his teeth, a hand moving to slick back his black hair. “I don’t know what we tell them, but.. Unless you have a better idea, I don’t think I want to keep a body, especially... His... Somewhere that might draw suspicion, because-”

His eyes glimmered for a moment, and he almost seemed crestfallen, a broken shell of a man who had everything to lose and had lost it. “You believe me, don’t you, Roxy?”

You grit your teeth. You hadn’t really thought about it, but his story was... Farfetched, to say the least. You looked off to the side, the wide rectangular ‘window’ letting icy winds blow into the area you were at, though there was no other sound aside from your sniffling and Jake’s heavy breaths. Dirk would have known what to say in a situation like this to defuse the mood. You inhaled sharply, though you dared not exhale for fear you may have started sobbing.

“I believe you,” It almost felt like a lie, the words coming out hoarse and shrill, almost scratchy. You weren’t sure what to believe, to be quite honest, given the events that had already transpired today, but you certainly weren’t going to make things worse in this situation. Be the optimist, your mother had always told you. You were definitely starting to wonder whether or not that was the best idea.

You mull your options over in your head for a moment, grim thoughts forcing their way past your common sense and letting themselves root within your psyche, pulling at the very fabrics of your mind as you start to properly come to terms that the person that you probably considered your best friend is dead. What’s worse about it, is that there is a very, very real chance that your other best friend was the one to kill him. Your frown turns wide, then your eyes go extremely wide as some form of realization forms within your mind, something worse than staring down your dead best friend.

“Dave.” You mutter, barely audible with the cutting, jagged wind piercing into your very being. “We’re going to have to tell...” You start, unable to finish as a sob claws its way from your throat, your hands crashing into your eyes as tears start freely flowing for a moment. You inhale sharply, and become vaguely aware of Jake’s arms wrapping about your shoulders, and as much as you don’t - can’t trust him right now - you can’t find it in your power to shrug him off.

“Roxy,” Jake started, his arms wrapping more tightly around you, threatening to close in on you, force around your neck and entirely cease your breathing, though you don’t care at this point. Dirk didn’t deserve this. Jake doesn’t deserve this. Dave definitely doesn’t deserve this..

You don’t deserve this.

You cry, and cry, and after a long, long while, you still find yourself with tears falling from your eyes, stinging your wet face against the frigid air that whipped against you in the black shroud of night. You cry until you’re no longer able to cry anymore, the tears willing but unable to continue falling from your face, your sobs becoming little more than ragged, rough breathing, your chest heaving and stomach painful from exertion. You sputter, coughing, though you try and keep what little of your pride that you’re able. Shaky feet pull an unwilling body upwards, hands coming to gently grasp at your silky, pink-blonde hair.

You glance up, barely able to see anything through swollen eyes though it was quite obvious to see Jake’s expression, a horrid, jagged frown which ended in sharp corners at his lips, his arms wrapped about Dirk’s torso, head propped up on his lap as he seemingly waited for you to calm yourself down. It almost made you feel like an idiot, given that he was taking this much better, though his dark eyes and slow breaths told you that he was likely in your position before he had mustered the courage to even call you.

You bite your bottom lip, forcing yourself to stand up, arm raising to wipe at your eyes which only made them hurt more. You coughed before you could speak, forcing your throat to clear so you didn’t make a fool of yourself. Given what you were about to do, you likely were anyway.

“Do you still have the gun?” The words echoed in the lot, and without having any cars within it, seemed to echo on and on for ages. The words almost sent another shiver down your spine, though the biting wind definitely wasn’t helping anything. He glanced up at you, unsure of really what to say.

A hand moved to beside of Dirk’s body, grasping at the gun which had previously been unseen by you. He grasped a shiny, silver revolver that you assumed was a .44, because all revolvers were a .44, if movies had anything to say about it, hand wrapping about the barrel of the gun to hand the weapon to you. There is no way that was proper gun handling, but you had both already tossed logic out the window.

You had handled guns before, and almost considered them a passion a few years ago, but due to some events that you can only refer to as ‘shenanigans’, had almost entirely dropped them. You caressed the weapon in your hand with care, a finger running across an engraving on the side of the barrel that had been splattered with blood to the point where it was barely readable. ‘Strider’, you could just barely make out.

Your other hand moved freely across it, as if you had all the experience in the world in handling these things. You inhaled sharply, memories coming back of how to handle these things, your thumb finding the cylinder latch and tilting it sideways. The cylinder swung wide, and you forced two fingers through it to cause it to actually open properly. You extended your hand, tilting it just enough so that the bullets that were loaded into it fell out, making special care to not look and find out how many were spent.

You sniffed once more, your nose starting to run as you merely dropped the gun on the ground without a care in the world. You extended your hand out to him, offering a hand to pick him up, though he hesitated. You catch yourself with a scowl, pulling your hand back to your side.

“I don’t know what happened,” You start, and though you’re aware that you’re unreasonably upset with Jake, especially if he was telling the truth. If he was telling the truth. “Get Dirk. My car’s nearby, we’ll... We’ll get him to a hospital or something. Tell them we found him in this garage. Make- Make something up, because nobody is going to believe this.”

He only gave a slight nod in response, his chest barely moving as he took slow, deep breaths. You kneeled down once more beside of Dirk, grasping at the revolver again, almost mentally yelling at yourself for having dropped it earlier. You close your eyes, trying not to let any more tears out as your thoughts raced wildly, before standing back up.

You reach to your pocket, finding it empty aside from your car keys. You had apparently left your phone hooked up to your car, and you’re honestly somewhat appreciative of that. You take a step forwards, waiting for Jake to lift Dirk and start to carry him.

Pink eyes shut as your arms crossed in front of your chest, shivering as you pull Dirk’s revolver close to your chest. You almost dreaded the call you were about to make. Dave wasn’t going to handle this well at all.

* * *

**== >** **Be the Accursed Librarian**  


To say that the Clown was inhospitable would not be very true of you, though it was not as if he had broken his own spine to make it so that you would feel at home. Within the black void, you could just barely make out that the both of you were upon a stage, thousands of chairs littering the area around you though there were nobody to fill the seats. It was almost a disappointment, though this ‘Gamzee’ did seem quite the performer.

Your mind had been constantly racked for thoughts upon where this could be, perhaps a mention of a ‘Skaia’, though the Dark Carnival would likely turn no results, but alas, you had not thought of a single mention in any of the tomes you had read. Your pre-cognisance gave you no prior knowledge aside from the fact you currently weren’t upon the Plane that you knew and... Well, you knew it, anyway.

“I,” The jester in front of you started, pulling himself back up into a standing position, his hat leaning haphazardly off to one side, “Would like to formally introduce myself. As I said, my name's Gamzee.” He pulled his smile from ear to ear, his eyes glowing bright as he motioned behind you. You find your arms crossing in front of your chest, practically batting your eyelashes at him as he willed you around. Deciding to ignore everything screaming that it was a trap, you turned about.

In front of you stood a massive pillar, and though he was behind you but a single moment ago, Gamzee stood at the top. Were it not for the bright, obnoxious colors that he wore, he wouldn’t have even been visible within the black void that encompassed his ‘realm’. He was in some sort of makeshift throne, one that looked extremely similar to yours despite being created entirely of white feathers as opposed to black.

One of his legs swung wide, crossing far over the other, his hands against the arms of his seat as he gazed down upon you. Even from this far away, his glowing, ghostly, purple eyes glared down at you, and your own violet eyes were no match, your gaze shifting away quickly. One of his hands raised, then the other, and his horrid, jagged laughter erupted from his place high above you. When you once more brought your eyes up to his, you found he was much more level with you, being only three or four feet on the pillar in front of you.

“So, Little Flower,” His voice started again, a blindingly bright spotlight appearing upon you and despite your arm coming to shield your eyes from it, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of the light. Perhaps it was all around you? The idea didn’t seem extremely farfetched, given the Carnie’s predisposition for theatrics and other flair. You frown, and he only seems to grin wider.

“Let us play a game,” He continued, an arm extending outwards with an open hand, and as you tilt your head to meet where he was motioning to, a small board forms out of seemingly nothing, with your name in dark purple text at the very top. Just below, in white text, the word ‘truth’ is etched with a small zero beside of it. On the other side, ‘lie’, with another zero beside. You could easily see where this was going.

“If I refuse?” the words left your mouth unthinkingly, your arms crossing over your chest as you glanced around. In the background on all sides of this ‘stage’ that you were on, the empty seats went on and on for what seemed to be miles. If this weren’t so odd, so wildly and absolutely insane, it might have been poetically sad.

Upon his throne, Gamzee pulled his legs together to cross them, and his smile, for once, seemed to be genuinely lost. “I could let you wander forever,” He started, eyes shutting out of what seemed to be disappointment. “Perhaps I just leave, come back in a few thousand years after you’ve learned your lesson,” His words were biting, obviously trying to scare you into playing whatever demented game he had planned out.

“More likely, I just let you leave,” He laughed, quite wickedly, “After all, you’ve already got a game to play, and I’m quite interested to see how it plays out.” His lips pulled back up into a smile wider than he had before, and you sigh. He claps once, twice, just barely audible despite him being somewhat close, his form falling back into his chair.

“Your decision.”

You grit your teeth, your right hand moving upwards to brush a bit of hair out of your eyes. The flow of time almost seemed distorted here, almost as it was in your fortress, though it seemed much, much different. Much older, much more powerful, and in a way, you doubt you could comprehend it. You sigh, brush yourself off, half-conscious about the blood stains that still streaked your garb, then nodded.

“Alright, Clown. I suppose I will play your game.”

He did not seem especially pleased with being referred to as ‘Clown’, but as you agreed, his face lit up once more, hands coming together to clasp rather noisily for a few seconds. He stood atop the arms of his throne, once more removing his hat to bow as far as he could for a moment, clearing his throat.

“[Let us start, then](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn3sJeYdejc&index=29&list=PLhPp-QAUKF_iiixYtOGmynw-BMEju-EWo).” The throne and pillar seemed to sink back downwards into nothingness, into the very void that Gamzee now stood upon, a small, white baton taking it’s place. He spun it about in his hand rather skillfully for a few seconds, motioning towards the “truth-lie”’ board with the end of it.

“Little Flower, we will now begin on an adventure. This adventure will test both your mettle, your resolve, and just how much you truly care about those you surround yourself with.” He smirked, and his bright, white fangs became extremely apparent for a single moment. “Sounds fun, right? I know that I’m having a hard time containing myself, personally.” He cackled for a moment, before clearing his throat suddenly.

“I’ll be asking questions. With every truth you tell, you get a single step closer to leaving. With every lie, you get a step further. Now, er, let’s set the stage up for this..” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, and suddenly three spotlights formed upon you instead of one. A plain, black chair, covered from top to bottom in black feathers formed behind you in the nothingness. You suppose you were being instructed to sit, and so, you followed the silent instruction.

“The Little Flower,” He began again, once you had made your place, “Trapped in a maze of her own integrity, her web of lies, her own little dimension of dishonesty and disgust,” And his eyes stared into yours, through your entire being. “When it really comes down to it, she must be honest with herself, be honest with a stranger, for after all, if she can’t be honest with me,” He grinned, extraordinarily wide, “C’mon, who can ya’ be honest with after that?”

His voice had almost taken on a disgusting accent, low and thick and scratchy, his words which before flowed concise and easily now being stretched out in a disgusting manner that suddenly made you want to turn heel and leave, though you supposed you could sit and do this with him for a moment more. He seemed powerful, powerful enough to have pulled you into his own realm without your accord, and for that, you were willing to compromise. He would make a very attractive ally, after all.

“We’ll start with a few simple questions, then,” And he sat down himself, a chair much like your own, though bright with white feathers, materialized beneath him only after he had actually sit down on what seemed to be nothing milliseconds earlier. “What is your name?”

“Rose Lalonde.” The response was simple, concise, as smooth as the blade of a guillotine. Off to the side, you could just vaguely see the counter beside of ‘Truth’ go up a single number, now sitting happily at 01.

“What is the name of your brother?” This question seemed almost sinister in nature, his grin forming into more of a smirk as it left his mouth, his fangs revealed once more.

“David Strider,” you say, noting the counter moved upwards once more. This was proving to simply be an annoyance.

“I also would’ve accepted Gamzee on that one,” And he laughed to himself, though the ‘audience’ laughed alongside of him, filling the void and nothingness that surrounded you with almost pitied laughter. He leaned forwards, and despite your chairs being easily five feet apart, he felt as if he were right on top of you.

“Why did you kill Dirk Strider?”

Your face went pale, much more pale than it already was. You opened your mouth to speak, though your heart was currently in your throat, making you unable to force any words to escape your mind. Clearing your throat, you crossed your legs as he did, and though your heart was pounding out of your chest suddenly, you spoke clearly and calmly.

“I did not.” A point went to truth, setting it at ‘03’.

Gamzee, on the other hand, frowned. Perhaps he had thought you for a fool who would have so easily collapsed from a simple question, but it appeared that he was not above telling half-truths or merely making things up in order to get a rise out of you. _‘Disappointing, Jester’_ , you thought to yourself, face becoming rather smug.

“Right,” He started, leaning back into his chair. He cleared his throat, “In that case, let me ask a different sort of question. We’ll need some buildup on this one, so the audience will need to be quiet for a moment.” As he finished his sentence, things grew deathly silent. They had already been as such before, though now there was nothing, not even the quiet melody of your breathing. Absolute, utter silence.

“Our dear Little Flower had set up a trap for her brother, perhaps to pull him into your own descent into chaos. What happened instead is that you condemned an innocent bystander, a poor man by the name of Jake English.” He stopped almost short, one eye closing as he stared you down for a moment, “Two questions. First, you know that infecting someone with demonic blood will kill them, correct?”

You nod, still extremely unsure of how to respond, exactly. Luckily for you, the counter seems to take your nod in response, adding a single point to the ‘truth’ category. Already, you freedom seemed almost given, easily obtainable by anyone who wasn’t a complete idiot. Your counters sat at four, for truth, and zero, for lies. This was beginning to simply become a pain.

“The second question, then.” And he smirked, wide, wider than you had seem him do before. His eyes were upon you, and you felt the stares of a million people who weren’t there staring upon you as well. Gamzee glanced about for a moment, hands raised as if he were silencing an audience that wasn’t there.

“You are aware that the only way to counteract demonic poison is to make somebody a demon as well, correct?”

Your eyes went wide for a moment, considering the impact of what he had just said. Your mouth opened, though you quickly decided to think this one through. You hadn’t known that, and the thoughts crossed your mind that you could have actually just killed someone. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done so before, to get to where you were, currently, but the thought that rippled through your mind is that you were going to turn your own brother into a demon.

Of course, you hadn’t known. You remembered coating the spike in your hidden room to the best of the Voice’s commands, but as to what exactly you did, you didn’t quite remember. You cleared your throat, doing your best to seem entirely sure with your next response.

“I did not know.” A buzzer, and as you glanced over, ‘truth’ was at four and ‘lie’ was at one. You frowned. Perhaps somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, you had known, but that seemed a very dirty trick for him to play. Perhaps he was merely getting desperate.

“Let me re-use a question I asked a moment ago, then.” He seemed to shut both of his eyes, fingertips touching to form a small triangle as he considered your presence for a moment. When next he opened his eyes, however, he seemed almost disappointed.

“Why did you kill Jake English?”

Jake? You hadn’t done anything to Jake. It was not your fault that he had interfered with the summoning, and despite that, you certainly had not killed him. You coated that spike in something, but it wasn’t intended to be lethal, after all.

“I did not.” Your answer came out clear, completely sure of yourself, though the buzzer that sounded through the darkness indicated otherwise. You glance to your right. Truth four, lie two. You almost hissed in disappointment, your eyes forcing back onto him. “Answer me, Jester. My Contractors say he is alive. Explain.”

“The poison, my Little Flower. We all know you coated it in demon’s blood, though how you got your hands on it is beyond me.” He crossed his legs once more, arms crossing in front of his chest, “He’s not dead, not yet. But the only creatures who can survive with demon’s blood coursing in them are demons. Obviously.” He pulled his arm up, glancing to his wrist as if he had a watch on. “I’d give it three days before it really starts kicking in. Then, bam! He’s gone.”

You open your mouth to speak, but as many times before, you find yourself unable. This time, however, it was not because you were unwilling. Your mouth and tongue moved, and despite the vibrations in your throat, nothing came out. Gamzee merely wagged his pointer finger at you.

“Easy, now. We’re still not finished.” He grinned maliciously, and for the first time, you almost felt afraid of him. “Next question, Little Flower. Why is it that you panic whenever you kill someone close, when you have sacrificed so many lives to get to this point now? What makes them different?”

“Quiet,” You demand, your fists starting to clench as you stare daggers through him. This game had already gotten old, and you weren’t going to explain yourself nor your actions to some Clown who got his sick pleasures in causing distress to those of the fairer sex. “I refuse to play anymore.” As the words left your mouth, a buzzer sounded. One more to lie.

“Refusing to play,” Gamzee responded before you could even get your question out, “Is just as bad as lying. There’s no keeping secrets from us, Rose.” He pushed his hat upwards with his baton, clearing his throat, “Anyway. Next question.”

You scowled, far and deep. You’d just have to answer a question or two more truthfully, and then he would let you go. Simple. This was proving to be a horrid nuisance.

“What is,” And as he spoke, a hand waved in front of you, your vision slowly starting to grow black, though it was not dimming. You could see everything completely fine, and you weren’t quite sure what was happening. “Your name?”

“Hafh’drn mnahn’athg”, and as the words left your mouth, you forced yourself into a stand. You opened your mouth to scream, and though you could feel Gamzee’s pull once more trying to silence you, your sheer fury and rage continued to manifest. You refused to speak your Lord’s language to one unworthy, and this act should have been considered heresy.

Ding. You glance over, truth five, lie four. You squint your eyes, and through an inky blackness, force yourself to look back at him. “Ee’ li’hee syha’h n’gha!" You extend a hand before you know what exactly what you’re doing, a massive tentacle erupting from your hand and crashing into where you knew he was merely a moment ago. When he’s not there, you find yourself not surprised at that, but at the sheer size of the spell you had just crafted was.

“I am not pleased, Jester.” Your voice came out normal, though echoing and hollow, seeming to speak itself both forwards and backwards at the same time. The spotlight remained on you, though your flesh had started taking on a much darker appearance, almost blending you in with the black void that surrounded and threatened to close in.

“Just a few more questions, Little Flower.” His voice echoed from behind you, and as you turned, both of his arms were wrapped behind his back, wide grin latched upon his face.

“I have no time for trivialities. Make them quick.”

“Very well,” And he bowed once more, his chair reforming behind him as you moved to sit down in your own. It, as well, formed beneath you, and you were secretly thankful you didn’t just make an idiot of yourself.

“Which of your friends are you going to kill next?”

You grew tired of these questions which played upon your emotions, trying to make you think a different way than you normally would to get you to respond in a way that turned you out to be the bad guy. This one, however, seemed fairly straight forwards.

“I am not. They are useful as a means to an end. If we are considering Jake, then I suppose it will be him, but as you’ve said, he is already-” The buzzer went off before you could even finish, your head quickly snapping towards the board. Six truth, five lie.

You scowled. He was just messing with you, now. He had to be. There was no way this was at all real, and he was merely trying to get you to react accordingly, of course. This was merely becoming a nuisance, truthfully.

“Next question, already.”

He merely kept his large smile in tact, nodding ever so slightly, his hat shifting just barely. “As you insist, Little Flower.” He cleared his throat, glancing down at your body which had started to have blackened flesh overtake pale white, “How long have you been a demon?”

You frowned. A glance down at your body for a moment, and though you had come so far, you felt as if those few words had actually crumbled you, as if his wit had finally bested yours. You inhaled sharply, though it felt as if you had no true need to breathe at all. Perhaps it was merely an illusion within Gamzee’s realm, or perhaps it had become so much more. Your fists tighten, and you suddenly find yourself standing yet again.

You open your mouth. No words. There were no words to explain this. The next time you open your eyes, you find yourself upon your knees, pale flesh and violet eyes as you had remembered yourself, and for a moment, it’s almost as if you were in a dream. You would wake up in your bed and everything would be normal yet again.

But you don’t wake up in your bed. You open your eyes only to find the eyes of the damned staring back at you. A rather gruesome scene unfolds before you, gore and marrow littering the floor with parts of something, someone, that can barely even be considered human anymore carved into disgusting idols and fetishes. You can vaguely make out the girl in the center, pale yet covered completely and utterly in gore and blood, with little bits of flesh and disgusting organ attached to every bit of her nude form. Her violet eyes seem stable, eager to work as she took a brown-red knife to what you could barely decipher as a stomach, carving it slowly and assuredly to her own machinations

Slowly, the rest of the bits lying around start to take the same shape, and you’re unsure if you’re watching this happen in real time, if she is quickly and efficiently carving the entirety of a multitude of other people’s organs, perhaps of some animal or perhaps of another individual human, into her own sick designs. It was you, of course, and there was never any doubt in your mind, but seeing you as pure as you once were, even in that twisted reality.

It almost made you cry, realizing that you considered the scene in front of you ‘pure’. Almost, but you had no tears to let fall, and the ones that had barely started to form you cared not for. Too far deep into this whole thing, too far corrupted, perhaps, but you were definitely not regretting it.

“A long time,” It takes you what seems like an eternity to answer, the words tasting sour upon your tongue as you spit them as if they were poison. “A long time, Gamzee. Is that what you want to hear? That I’ve turned myself into a monster? That I’ve...” You glance up for a moment, finding yourself within the room you had intended to enter what seemed like ages ago. You inhale sharply, wiping away the fragments of tears that had started to form within your eyes. How very uncharacteristic, you mutter to yourself, before forcing yourself to stand on legs that almost refused.

Clearing your throat, you turned around, hand reaching out towards the doorknob. You inhaled once more as you grasped onto it, almost thankful for the feeling of air filling your lungs yet again, dark purple eyes closing in thought for just a moment.

He may have thought you a monster, and perhaps many more would think that by the time this entire thing was through. Perhaps even you would think yourself a monster. This is the way things had to be, however.

If you didn’t, someone else would.

After a moment, you somehow find yourself back in your ‘throne room’ with Kanaya. Judging by the way she reacted with seeing you walk back inside, you must not have been gone for very long. Again, the passage of time seemed almost skewed in areas like this. Perhaps it was a good thing, allowing you to get much done without interference.

“Miss Rose, I apologize if I perhaps scared or harmed you in any way.”

“You didn’t.”

“I didn’t think I did. I just wanted to make sure because I have an odd feeling that we are going to be working together quite a bit from now on.”

You frown, taking your place back on the throne that was eerily similar to the one that Gamzee had created for you within his realm. You lean back into the feathers, purple eyes slowly shutting.

“I am afraid that I have some bad news, Miss Rose.” Kanaya’s voice seemed almost hesitant to announce this, reluctant to not want to disappoint her summoner, perhaps.

“Alright.” You inhale slowly, a hand coming to gently rub at your closed eyes. You really weren’t in the mood for bad news. “Just tell me so I can deal with it. Let me guess, first. They didn’t get my brother?”

The look on Kanaya’s face told her that she was correct, but also very far off from what had actually happened. She glanced down for a moment, and were it not for the fangs you would have suspected she was biting her bottom lip.

“Well,” Kanaya started, trying to piece together where to start, “Vriska’s dead. Well, not permanently dead. Demons don’t die unless you break their souls or kill them in Derse, but only other demons can see demon souls and- You are not interested.” You weren’t.

“The boy who looks like Dave killed her, but she also killed him.” Fantastic. A casualty that you’d likely have to clean up somehow or another. “Terezi wants to know if she should continue hunting him down or retreat for just a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed, entire gaze filled with contempt and disappointment. You sighed, loudly, fingers coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. “You can get in contact with her, yes?”

“I can indeed, though I would have to concentrate for a moment.”

From within, it almost felt as if there was something horrid and eldritch boiling and brooding. A slight burning within your chest as your eyes almost filled with ancient, hateful fires that threatened to swathe your own consciousness in a rapture of flame. Perhaps Gamzee had helped pull it out, this power that you could feel swirling within every vein that encompassed your frail, pale body.

“Miss Rose, are you alright? Perhaps you’re still feeling a bit faint from earlier?” The way she said it was almost as if she were bragging, her lips pulled up just enough to reveal her fangs, one of which was still covered in your blood. You gazed only for a moment upon her figure, noting that she seemed almost devoid of blood upon her garb comparative to yours which was streaked and splattered.

“Yes, Kanaya.” You calmed your breathing, slowly rotating your shoulder as your slow build to newfound power formed within your very essence. “I am completely fine.”

Six truths, six lies.

* * *

**== > Be the Unfortunate Brother**  


It was dark. The only illumination of your entire living area was your laptop which you had pushed to the side after a moment, instead opting to sit by yourself and await the return of Lalonde. It really wasn’t that you disliked her, and in the back of your mind you knew that, but she was always full of energy and excited, and she really didn’t mesh well with your own personality. You thought yourself as dark and mysterious, a stranger who would wander in and leave without a word, and though you knew the truth was far from that, she was extremely overbearing.

You definitely missed her right now, though. From your chair you cast a single glance downwards at your laptop, Pesterchum showing that two of nine friends were online. You shifted your eyebrows up, somewhat curious as you distinctly remember that you’ve only ever had seven friends on Pesterchum. Someone, a spambot likely, probably added you while you were off in crazy-land with Jake and Roxy.

You pull your laptop back over to you, clicking on the button to show all of your friends, not just the ones that were online. ghostlyTrickster, tipsyGnostalgic, golgothasTerror, timaeusTestified, tentacleTherapist, terminallyCapricious, gutsyGumshoe, gardenGnostic... Who in the hell was gallowsCalibrator?

You let your eyes lift back upwards for a moment, finding out who was actually online. The new person, gallowsCalibrator, was in a disgusting light teal color that made it impossible to read correctly. You wished these people would just stick with a normal color that wasn’t awful, like red.

You right clicked on gallowsCalibrator, moving your cursor slowly down to ‘delete friend’. You hovered over it for a moment, an odd sense of curiosity taking your finger before you could actually properly remove them from your list. As if on queue, however, the text window popped open, and your eyes were assaulted by a horrifically bright shade of teal and a complete and utter butchering of the way grammar was intended to be used.

gallowsCalibrator [GC] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

GC: H3Y COOL K1D  
GC: HOWS 1T GO1NG

This was going to be awful.

TG: what even are you trying to say to me  
TG: i get it i went through that phase too but are you actually twelve who even types like that anymore

GC: WHO TYP3S L1KE WH4T 4NYMORE  
GC: 1 4SSUR3 YOU TH1S 1S HOW 1 NORMALLY T4LK  
GC: 4ND 1 T4K3 OFF3NS3 TH4T YOU TH1NK TH1S 1S A PH4S3

TG: alright well regardless of your text habits it doesnt change the fact that your text is disgusting and that weird color that no one cares about

GC: WH1L3 1 H4LFW4Y AGR33 1 MUST 4LSO T4K3 OFF3NS3 TO THIS  
GC: AT L34ST YOUR COLOR IS 4M4Z1NGLY D3L1C1OUS

TG: you know the fucked up thing is that youre not even the weirdest person that i have on pesterchum  
TG: between that demented clown asshole and my sister youre holding up somewhere nice right in the middle

GC: DO3S TH1S M34N YOU TH1NK W3 4R3 GO1NG TO B3 FR13NDS  
GC: F1N4LLY 4LL MY DR34MS COME TRU3  
GC: 3V3RY L4ST ON3 OF TH3M

TG: alright chill i get it youre all about shitty text and sarcasm  
TG: yeah i could see us getting along youve already filled at least half my requirements

GC: TH4TS K1ND OF S4D

TG: no shit

GC: W3LL 1F YOU DONT M1ND ME 4SK1NG  
GC: AND 1M SUR3 YOU DO  
GC: YOUR3 STR1D3R R1GHT

Alright, that’s weird as hell. Maybe she’s one of Rose’s weird friends or something.

TG: yeah i see my legacy has echoed far and wide  
TG: cant say i blame you for knowing me because lets be honest i’m pretty great here

GC: H3H3H3H3H3  
GC: Y34H SUR3 L3TS GO W1TH TH4T  
GC: MY NAM3 1S T3R3Z1  
GC: N1C3 TO M33T YOU

TG: yeah sure

gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

You lean back into your chair. She was still online, but sometimes people just wanted to end conversations and that was more of just a greeting, which was fair. If she was one of Rose’s friends, then she was weird but nowhere near as much as the rest of them. You couldn’t quite shake the way they spoke, however, speaking as if they had known you for quite some time now. Perhaps you were merely being paranoid. You knew how to calm yourself down.

turntechGodhead [TG] has began pestering terminallyCapricious [TC]

TG: hey dude

TC: :o)

TG: yeah sure all that clowny stuff honk honk and whatnot  
TG: you feel like actually talking today i mean its not like anythings really changed  
TG: just figured i’d ask

TC: :o) HoNk

TG: so is that a no or a yes cause im sorry to say that i dont speak clown

TC: :o(

Well, that’s progress, at least.

TG: alright see you around buddy just checking up on how things are would hate for you to think i didnt care or something

You really didn’t.

TC: :o)

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering terminallyCapricious [TC]

Well, that was a fantastic waste of... You let your eyes wander over to your digital clock, reading approximately fifteen minutes after you had started this whole spectacle. Honestly, it didn’t really feel that long, but you also weren’t completely grasping the concept of time passing recently. More likely, you were probably just tired. It had been a long day, after all.

You crack your knuckles, three on one hand and all five on the next, which causes you to go back and try to crack the other two to no avail. Honestly, it’s quite a bit disappointing, though your eye catches someone else signing into Pesterchum. A bit odd for him to be up at past midnight, you think, then glance to your clock. It had stopped working, you think, because it hadn’t moved at all since you last glanced at it. Or maybe it just wasn’t that much of a time difference. You grimace, then press the button to initiate a conversation.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ghostlyTrickster [GT]

TG: sup

GT: hey man! wow it feels like its been ages since we last talked.  
GT: how are you doing?

TG: yeah you know shits just been kicked up to twelve in weirdsville aka arkham  
TG: missing people dead goats you know  
TG: the usual

GT: i really don’t know if you’re being serious about this or not...  
GT: gosh dave you’re really hard to read sometimes!  
GT: i know irony and sarcasm is kind of your thing but its at the point where i have to second guess if whatever you say is true or not.

TG: cmon egbert lets be honest for a minute  
TG: everything i say is true  
TG: if there was an award given to the person who lied the most id be in dead last  
TG: number one would be going up to get his award meanwhile im all the way in the back cant even see over the endless crowds  
TG: thats how honest and trustworthy i am

GT: if you say so dave.

TG: so whats been up with you

He doesn’t respond for a minute or three, and you mentally flinch at the thought. The disappointment on your face is almost palpable before you see the indicator that he’s writing appear at the bottom.

GT: you know just the usual.  
GT: working at this new job i got!  
GT: just some lame coffee shop, you wouldn’t like it honestly.  
GT: its mostly hipsters and middle aged soccer moms.

TG: egbert man  
TG: if theres anything in this world at all that i absolutely love  
TG: its cheap shitty water with a few coffee beans thrown in the mix  
TG: also soccer moms and hipsters i guess

GT: since when do you even drink coffee?

You don’t.

TG: since the beginning of time of course  
TG: ive got that badass keurig sitting in my kitchen youve seen it right

You glance over to your ‘kitchen’ area, a shitty coffee pot that you only turn on for Dirk or your other, older Bro whenever they were around, which is to say, hardly ever.

GT: yeah i think i remember.

TG: anyway  
TG: you should show me around the shop sometime

Please, please, please.

GT: yeah that sounds like a great time!

Yesss.

TG: i’ll find a day im free and send you another message later  
TG: we can meet up at your break or just on a free day or whatever

GT: sounds like a plan!  
GT: i just got home so im pretty tired though…  
GT: think i’m going to head off for now.

TG: dont worry about it man  
TG: i got all the time in the world

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ghostlyTrickster [GT]

The chat screen closed and you were once more left alone to your own machinations, sitting in the darkness that had started to seemingly overtake the entirety of your room. A loud thump in front of you startled you to become suddenly cognisant, though once you identified the noise as one of your shitty ICP figures falling from a desk, you relax back into your chair. You couldn’t give two shits about that stuff, anyway. Most of it was just cheap junk.

You lift from your chair, setting your laptop against its arm. You take a few steps towards the figure, a beautiful rendition of a chubby man with dreads and god awful juggalo make-up, before your phone started to go off. It startled you for just a moment, before you actually realized it was the ringtone you had set for Roxy’s phone. Maybe she ran into a problem, or something.

You press the talk button on your phone, a shitty, old thing that you only got because Dirk said he didn’t need it anymore and was tired of not being able to contact you. It’s at least six years old and drops calls more than a quarter of the time, but for what little you use it, it gets the job done, you suppose.

“Roxy,” you start, clearing your throat so you don’t sound desperate, your voice cracking in the cold chill of your room. “What’s up? Forget where I live or something?” You tried to laugh, but it barely came out as more than a few quick gasps. You weren’t really good at talking to people, and the phone wasn’t much different.

“Dave,” She could barely utter her words, her breathing ragged and forced, obvious even over your phone. Your blood ran cold, assuming something had happened to her or her car. If she were stuck somewhere, you definitely didn’t have a ride to go get her, and the rest of your friends all appeared as offline. There was Jake and Dirk, but they had taken Dirk’s motorcycle, right? This wasn’t going to be an easy solution.

“I need to talk to you,” She started, and you could practically hear the tears rolling down her face. You knew she was quite emotional, but usually she was extremely happy and enthusiastic. The sheer change of tone made your veins pump ice, your eyes opening wide in concern and confusion. “I don’t know how to say this... I don’t know what to say...”

“Roxy, just,” You stop yourself, quite unsure of how to properly continue. If this were in person, maybe this would be easier, as you could simply be a shoulder for her to cry on. This was hard. “Just relax, alright? Breath slow. Tell me what happened.” You really wish she wouldn’t, you weren’t sure how to handle whatever it was that had happened.

“I’m so sorry,” She forced out, her voice cracking yet again as she forced herself off of the phone for a moment. You let yourself sit back down into your chair, taking special care to pull the figurine back up and into its proper position. You smiled to yourself, before realizing the situation you were still in. You turned around on your heels, making your way to your door to grab your shoes, just in case.

“Seriously, just breath.” Your voice tried to come out calm, but it very clearly wasn’t. If you hadn’t heard it yourself, you would have almost taken it for a plea for help, a cry of despair of an animal with his back to the wall and no way out, staring down utter and certain death. “Just, one word at a time. Tell me what happened. Are you alright?” You were quite sure you were ready for her answer.

“Dave,” This one was crystal clear, apparently forcing herself to take all of her will to actually let you know what had happened. The clarity of it, as well as the uncertain silence that followed for a mere moment after was enough to completely shatter the outside world, and for a moment, all that mattered to you was the voice of Roxy Lalonde and what she had to say.

“Dirk is dead.” Her voice pierced through both your mind and thoughts, forcing you to inhale sharply and barely sputter out any sort of response. She was crying, again, on the other end, though it was hardly audible as the blood rushed to your head and a myriad of a thousand different thoughts and voices filled your head, a cacophony of screaming.

“What?” You could barely muster the energy to get a single word out, and already you were racing to your door, forcing your shoes on and... You had nowhere to go. Nowhere that you knew they would be. Your hand grasped the doorknob, everything in your body willing you to open it and start running, but you couldn’t.

“Dave, I’m-” She cut out for a moment, though you think she finished with ‘so sorry’, or that’s what you would normally think at least. All things considered, you supposed you were handling this very well, even as you take a few steps back from your door, even as you turn around and walk into the darkness, even as you grasp a knife that was upon your counter.

“Roxy,” You can barely bring yourself to utter another word, practically forcing the bitter words to leave your throat by this point, “What happened?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper in the wind, the flow of blood clogging your thoughts and any other feeling you could possibly have at this moment.

“I’ll... I’ll tell you the details when we meet up,” She starts, which is enough to cause you to yell out in frustration. She’s quiet for a moment longer than she normally would be, her sobs becoming extremely audible even as your phone cut in and out. “Dave, I need you- Need you to calm down.”

You grit your teeth and scowl, as if she could see you through the phone and you were staring daggers straight through her. You stepped backwards before managing your way forwards into your bedroom. You dropped yourself down on your bed, staring downwards at the floor with the phone barely pressed up to your ear anymore.

Unreal. This was a joke. It had to be. Dirk… dead? No. Fuck no. A nightmare. This entire day has been one big nightmare, and you’re lying here, wondering when the hell you’re going to wake up. You’ve had enough of it.

This isn’t real. None of this is real. Your brother can’t be dead. He… He can’t be.

**_[I can help him.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0O4v1sieM3E&list=PLhPp-QAUKF_iiixYtOGmynw-BMEju-EWo&index=12)_ **

A voice that was barely a whisper, and yet all too easily understandable. It’s like silk on your ears, though chilling to the core at the same time. It makes your skin crawl.

That wasn’t even English, you were pretty sure, but you could understand completely. Slowly, your head raised, staring into the black void that had seemed to encompass your entire being, your entire home, that seemed to stretch on endlessly with no sight of ending.

 _“What do I have to do?”_ No words left your mouth, though they may as well have, your lips moving with every individual thought as you bargained with literally nothing, desperate and pathetically attempting to do something, anything. Roxy had continued talking, though you had all but cut her out at this point. This was more important, at the moment. You would have to apologize later.

**_Watch. Do as I do._ **

You find yourself coming to a stand, which is something that you previously hadn’t thought yourself capable of, your legs wobbling and threatening to bend but never giving. You lift both of your arms upwards, the knife you had grabbed previously for some reason lifting upwards to your palm. You should have been terrified about what was going to happen, and though your body reacts normally with wide eyes and a horrid shaking, you found your own emotions lacking. You knew you should have reacted much differently, but you couldn’t force yourself to take back control.

Still even more odd is that you didn’t react as you moved the knife slowly across your palm, bright red blood oozing to the surface and spilling out quickly. Your eyes became dulled, half lidded as you slowly traced a circle across the tiles of your bedroom floor with your own blood, and wow... It was a lot of blood. You merely smirked as the thought crossed your mind, your body still shaking with fear or perhaps anticipation.

Symbols of an origin that you were unaware of were etched into the circle, alongside of text from a language you had long since forgotten, that humanity had forgotten entirely, but was rooted in your mind. You remembered each individual character and word, each symbol and what it represented before you even finished the drawing.

The thought crossed your mind, that you were almost a painter and these symbols, your floor, the world, your canvas, though you quickly dismissed the thought. Extremely out of character for yourself, you let yourself think, before realizing the entire situation you were in. Your body once more started to shake, a sharp chill running down your spine. From your bed, you could vaguely make out Roxy trying to speak once more, but your lips merely curled into a frown as you made a single handprint of blood in the very center of the circle.

You let your eyes shut, and for a moment, you weren’t in your bedroom. You were within a void, one as you had seen in your dreams, but there was no girl with pale skin and blackened eyes in front of you, but instead someone who you had known all your life, someone that you knew was destined for more than he was given.

He was covered in blood, from head to toe, with bright blonde hair that spiked up way too easily even without gel. He had orange eyes and though you had barely seen them yourself, you knew that he looked... Different, almost. His eyes had taken the shape of a wild animals, his stance low with features sharp and prominent, but he was still the person you knew regardless.

He was still your brother.

You crack your eyes open once more. You were laying in the middle of a circle that was smeared with red-brown. It’s a point for you to not think of what it is. You cough, wincing at the sudden pain that came from your hand when you tried to lift yourself up, and when you look down, there’s a bandage wrapped around your palm. You inhale slowly, chest just barely rising and falling as you manage to make your way to your feet.

You stumble your way to the door, grasping it with the hand that wasn’t wounded, words echoing in your mind that you knew weren’t yours, that you knew could never have manifested by your own accord. You grasped at your hair, almost pulling it as you went into another coughing fit, vomiting in the hall but not stopping as you continued your slow, forced push ahead. Above all, there was a single phrase echoing over and over in your head, and you knew you needed help. Needed to talk to someone, anyone.

**_I reward an empty vessel, Strider._ **

* * *

******== > Be the Newly Testified**

_[Rebirth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AKPhHgBtS0&index=20&list=PLhPp-QAUKF_iiixYtOGmynw-BMEju-EWo) _

Your ears twitch slightly as sound starts to flood into your mind once more. You can barely make anything out, and your head is absolutely pounding, but you suppose you’ve been worse off. Your fingers curl slightly, inquisitively, and you almost cut your palm with a nail that was far too long for your fingers. Your body aches, and it creaks as you try to will it to move to no avail, brain barely able to send impulses to force yourself to do- Well, anything, really.

“He just hung up on you?” A male’s voice, rough yet steady, with an obvious sense of steadfast determination in its character. In response, a female’s voice, one you recognized to be bright and bubbly yet with a sense of despair, sadness, perhaps desperation. You couldn’t quite make out the words, but the tone, the feelings from the voice, it was almost surprising how much you could taste that emotion, how much you could feel it.

Your eyes popped open. You were in a car, that much was certain, laid flat out in the backseat with a towel or two underneath you. You, as well as the towels, were absolutely blood-soaked, though you dared not move your form just yet, fingers still lightly curling back and forth. The voice from in front of you continued, more clear, though you still couldn’t quite make out their entire conversation.

Your lips parsed, body willing you to draw air into them, but you found no such recourse. There was no rising of your chest, no forceful intake like you’d expect after being asleep for what felt like forever. Your nose was assaulted with the smell of smoke, your lips and tongue tasting metallic and disgusting. You twisted your head just slightly, your eyes coming to a slow close again, just to find something bumping into your head and against the seat of the car.

Lying back, you think for a moment, trying to recall just what had happened, and just how you had pissed off the semi-truck driver that had apparently crashed dead into your skull. A hand would have normally raised to rub at your temples, though you couldn’t even will your body to move. You weren’t sure if you were exhausted, or if it was just your headache which was still pounding, throbbing into your neck and chest with every pulse.

You remember going to Rose’s from your garage. You remember leaving with Jake. You remember those girls in the diner, and... Your eyes bulge open again, an odd kind of primal fury overtaking your senses. The event leading up to when you shot yourself, going all the way to...

You almost sputter, almost cough though nothing comes out as you realize why you were laying in the back seat of Roxy’s car with the two acting as if they had just watched their best friend bleed out in front of them. Probably, it was because they actually had. You can just vaguely recall that Jake had shot the one who was wiry and stringy, whose veins webbed around her body like some kind of demented demon straight from the pits of Hell.

You’re even more surprised when something tells you - an inate well of knowledge that seems to fester inside you now - that, yes, in fact, she _was_ a demon straight from the pits of Hell. A Contractor. Your mind boils with seething rage, when you realize that means someone had to summon them and bind them to come after you. Unsettling, as you try to recall exactly how you have this knowledge in the first place. It’s only as you shift slightly once more, trying to go unnoticed by the two in front that you realize you’ve apparently gained a small set of horns. They were small, tiny even, mere nubs that had began sprouting from your skull, but they were there.

So, that was a thing. You grit your teeth, tongue running against them and finding them sharp, but no jagged. You’re sure the rest of you had already started changing as well, and though you didn’t know exactly what was going on, you had quite a good idea. Your nose flickered in the air, once more finding smoke as well as an odd, fresh smell, one of lavender and sunlight in the morning. An odd thing to smell, you thought, but perhaps things were different given how you were, apparently.

Your body locked up, suddenly, still trying to get over the throes of actually being dead. It wasn’t stiffness that kept you from moving, but instead an odd, acute sense of dread, as if something extraordinarily wrong was happening. Your eyes forced shut as pain wracked your body, causing you to spasm slightly and one of the voices in front of you stops short of whatever they were saying, only starting back after a moment of you lying still.

Your mind shifted from a morbid curiosity, reliving your final moments again and again to something much more fragile, easily broken and hate-filled. There was only a single person from memory who could have done this, who could have potentially harmed your friends and family, and you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t know where she was, but this scent... There wasn’t very much magic of this degree in Arkham. It would be very simple to track her down.

You’re going to have to plan this correctly. You’re not quite sure why, but everything in your entire body is screaming for you to track her or the remaining Contractor down, that everything in your power would easily be enough to best whoever did this to you. Your lips curl into a frown, almost disappointed. You could feel something flowing in your veins, not blood nor life, yet there was obvious, distinct, and untapped power, hidden strength.

You find yourself sitting upright, your entire body tensing as muscles screamed and begged to rest as they hadn’t moved for so long, your post-death experience apparently not being what they had expected. Even as you moved, you felt the muscles strain and sinew snap, maybe a bone crack here or there, though it did not stop your advance. You manage to yell something out, a sort of apology in a language that is echoing, forcing over itself and your tongue and you’re not even sure what you said before the sound of shattering glass and a roaring engine overtake your senses.

You find yourself in the freezing night air, the moon high in the sky doing little to illuminate your surroundings. You smell the air, finding the trace of lavender you had picked up earlier, and though you don’t drop to all fours as you half expected yourself to, your stance is still low and wide as you full sprint towards the direction it came from. Feral hatred had filled your veins, replacing the icy nothingness before it.

You were going to stop this madness before it even began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **R'leyhian Translations:**
> 
> _Hafh’drn mnahn’athg_ \- A bound and worthless summoner
> 
>  _Ee’ li’hee syha’h n’gha!_ \- You will answer me before I force you into an eternity of darkness!


	6. Hastur Venit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A contractor embarks on a task to fulfill an agreement. The whispers of the Old Gods reaches a shrieking cacophony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who've been anticipating action: happy early birthday.

**== > **== > Be the Unfortunate Brother** **

****

You weren’t sure where you were headed, nor were you sure why you even left. Your phone was still on the bed, and you expected to come back to either a hundred missed calls or none. You could just barely make out Roxy screaming something, an odd sound like the squeal of tires, but nothing more than the blood rushing to your head afterwards. You hair was a mess, disheveled, and the blood and bandages around your hand and arms was unsightly, to say the least. You weren’t sure what you’d tell somebody if they stopped and asked you. Maybe you wouldn’t, instead just passing them by without a second thought.

The air was cold, colder than you remembered from earlier, with the moon starting to wane downwards in the black, starless void. You had long since shoved your hands in your pocket, letting providence guide you to wherever it saw fit, forcing your footfalls one, two, three, but not of your own accord. You were in an unfamiliar part of the city, with no idea how long you’d been walking nor how far you had come. Your legs weren’t necessarily in pain, though they definitely started to burn as you turned a corner, making your way down yet another unfamiliar alleyway. You didn’t care about your own safety, nor did you really think of anything. The whispers that had started to plague your mind saw to it that you couldn’t.

A crow’s cawing from above stopped you short, causing you to shoot a curious glance upwards to see three or four on a power line. Extremely odd, given that it was the middle of the night, but Arkham was by no means a normal place. They continued squawking at you, forcing your steps to become hastened, until you were out of sight. You let out a sigh of relief, a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, as you turned further into the city that you didn’t have a way out of. You let yourself come to a stop, a police siren echoing in the distance, but as it faded away, you take a step or two again.

You inhaled sharply, exhaling a breath that appeared as mist in front of your face. You glanced down at your pocket, expecting to pull out your phone to realize just what time it was, but of course, you had forgotten it at home. You let out what seems like an endless sigh, glancing around for a moment. Nobody on the streets, but you did see a staircase that, presumably, lead down to a subway. Hopefully, anyway.

You can barely bring yourself to continue moving towards it, especially odd to find yourself stepping down it automatically. It was almost as if something was luring you, something you desperately wanted to fruition in your grasp with every step, dangling just out of reach while being horrifyingly sinister. Your teeth gritted, and you barely make note of your surroundings as you find the tram sitting where you expected it would be, glad that there was apparently nobody else around.

If nothing else, it would at least serve as a place to rest your legs for a moment. Your breath is ragged and weary, your head spinning as the adrenaline that had desperately been pumping through you for the last however-long started to fade. Your pale fingers, made more pale from the slice on your palm that you had inflicted earlier, slowly drummed against the walls as you made your way down. If anyone had seen you, they most certainly would have taken you for some kind of riled-up addict desperately searching for his next fix.

It was dark, your eyes taking a long moment to adjust to the darkness. You were really wishing that you had your shades right now and they weren’t currently a disgusting, broken mess. Your hands pressed into warm pockets, head aimed downwards as your footfalls slowed to little more than a crawl, your breathing finally normalizing, becoming easier to control. You hadn’t cried. You refused to cry, if not for Dirk, then for your other brother. He wouldn’t have wanted you too.

You almost collapse as you realize you’re probably going to have to be the one to break the news to Bro, that some delinquent playing dress up killed him in cold blood for nothing, no reason at all. One hand pulls from your pocket as you lean against a wall, slowly rubbing against weary eyes and dishevelled hair. You didn’t know what killed him, though you were quite aware of the circumstance. It made your blood run cold when you asked ‘why’ aloud, into the darkness, but nothing but an echo responded.

You glanced up and around, glancing at the poles that served as support for the transit system you were in. The trams in Arkham were weird, having a good six or more feet above them since they were slowly moving over towards a rail system that ran off a wire that was apparently stupid fast. They hadn’t done it yet, and had been talking about it for years, but aside from the small renovation that made construction crews lives much easier, nothing had changed.

You sigh, taking a step forwards with a breath that escaped from freezing lips into a gust of wind that took form as mist and dissipated as soon as it appeared. In the darkness, it was hard to pinpoint a clock or some other form of monitor that could tell you what time it was. Honestly, you weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you figured you were gonna be stuck here until morning, lest you try and walk home.

You give up after a minute, of course, figuring there was no way that you could ever see something as small as that in the inky darkness that enveloped the entire area. You open your lips to audibly curse to yourself, but something catches your eye to the side, something just barely moving in the darkness. You find yourself suddenly alert, a chill running down your spine as you take a step forwards, almost desperate to find out if you should run or not. Your legs continued forwards, but your entire body was screaming for you to stop. This was not something you should be doing.

You come to a stop, glancing back to where you saw the movement. Hung low on a pillar in front of the actual railway system was a small numerical clock, but the hands were completely messed up. The second hand was flying around at basically a full revolution a second, with the minute hand following slower, and the hour hand being the slowest. You stare at it for a moment in wonder, almost entertained by the obvious technical malfunction. You didn’t know much about clocks or watch-making, but you supposed the batteries in those kinds of things could probably overload or... Something, right?

You laugh aloud, finding the echoing to be relatively soothing compared to a moment ago. You let your lips pull up into a half smirk, only somewhat entertained by the terrible horror that was a broken clock. You punctuate with a single, loud ‘Ha!’, perhaps more for yourself and less to actually laugh. A sharp inhalation takes you once more, straightening your back as a piercing laugh echoes back at you. Not your laugh, that much was for sure, but one that was shrill and awful, as if someone were deliberately trying to be as loud as possible. Other people could be in here, you assured yourself. Hopefully not someone with a knife or... 

A light at the far end of the tunnel interrupted your speech. You glanced back up at the clock, which was still spinning far out of control, before you shook your head. Apparently, it was much earlier in the morning than you had expected, though it was fairly odd that there was nobody else in the entire system. You sniffed the icy air, shaking your head. That wasn’t true, as you had heard that laugh earlier. There was nobody worth thinking about, anyway.

You wait for a moment or three as the tram slowly pulls into view. There were a few different types, but this was by far the most common, with four or five cars on it alongside of the area the conductors used, as well as a single back car for service, if it were one of the fancier trams. This one, apparently, was not, as it had four cars with a couple ladders on the back of them to climb on top if needed, usually for maintenance. You shrugged, figuring that you had to get home somehow, before you stepped up to the first door, waiting for it to open.

Even as you entered, a shiver ran down your spine. You really hated taking this system, as it always made you extraordinarily nervous being around that many other people. You glance around at the front car, which was extremely basic aside from a rather nice set of seats with at least three feet of room in the middle. You stand in the center, opting instead to grab hold of a bar to balance yourself. If you were going to sit down, with how wobbly and shaky your legs were, you weren’t getting back up.

Nothing happens for a few moments. It’s only a few minutes, but to you, it feels like the long drag of hours. Suddenly, your head jerks up, your eyes shot wide and acutely aware. The back of your head was pounding with sudden fear, your red eyes blazing within the darkness as somehow, some way, you knew that you were being watched. You pull your hand down to your side, slowly, almost nonchalantly, patting your pocket. The small knife you always carried was still there, and it sent a chill down your spine as you considered actually pulling it for a moment. You suck in air through your teeth, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Another long moment passes, the tram slowly starting to hum to life as it slowly starts moving. You release a slow breath of air, letting your eyes come to a slow close for just a moment. You lean back against the bar you were on as the train pulls off at a slow speed, enough to make your wobbly knees bend just slightly before straightening back. You knew the train schedules pretty well, as having no car definitely made this the easiest way to travel. You glanced around, finding the car surprisingly empty. You didn’t even remember passing a ticket booth on the way in, though you were in such a hurry, perhaps you merely forgot. You’d deal with that problem when you passed it, you supposed.

You let out a small breath, lips barely opening to inhale or exhale as you looked about. It was almost unnervingly dark, dim bulbs barely illuminating your surroundings as one flickered off and on. Leaning heavily against the pole, you push a foot out to gauge how much room you’d actually have on a crowded day, coming away with the answer of ‘not nearly enough’. A few feet, maybe, if everyone was your body size, though in reality it’d be only a foot or two at most. You turn, pushing a foot out to find the exact same on the other side, and you’re satisfied in some weird manner.

A sudden chill down your spine causes you to stiffen up, hand once more shoving deep into your pocket, fingers grasping around your small knife almost instinctively, though you weren’t sure why. You let yourself fall quiet, breath ceasing almost entirely as you opened your ears. You had heard something, though perhaps it was merely the tram moving? They were normally silent, but you suppose there was always room for the occasional bump along the rails. You turn about, glancing at the door that would lead to the very first cart, the one the conductor would ride in, eyes taking a moment to refocus on the scene.

The knob jiggled slightly, back and forth, causing you to jump back for a moment. Adrenaline had started flowing again, your eyes wide and obvious panic etched upon your entire face. You held your breath, the knob moving back and forth, one second, two seconds. Five seconds. Your brain dissolved into chaotic static, your hand ready to pull your knife out, a million thoughts entering into your mind, with only a few of them being pleasant.

_ ‘It’s just the Conductor,’  _ You let yourself think.  _ ‘I’ll tell him I fell asleep or something, there will be no issue.’  _ You mentally practiced it over and over in your head, watching the knob intently as it shook, almost violently, for another five or so seconds, before it stopped completely. You sat, back in silence, for what seemed like an eternity. A second passed by, perhaps a minute, and maybe an hour with the amount of apprehension you felt, before you finally found your wits again. The hand not gripped to your knife started reaching for the knob, and though you weren’t sure why, it almost made you sick to your stomach to find out who or what was on the other side of the door.

Your hand grasped around the ice cold handle, fingers wrapping about the entire thing as if it were something to be cherished or worshipped. You let yourself linger for a moment that lasted far, far too long, before you slowly twisted your wrist, half-expecting the door to be locked tight. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it wasn’t, and the click of the door’s mechanisms sounds off as you slowly push it forwards. It doesn’t budge. Confused, you push it again, and again, and then once more, though it refuses to move in the slightest, as if some invisible force were willing it shut. You huff, grasping hold of it tightly before forcing your arm backwards, just to find the door flying wide open and yourself falling upon the floor.

You were really, really glad that nobody was around to see that. You force yourself back up to your feet quickly, finding your pocket knife had left your pants and was now grasped tightly in your hand. You weren’t sure why, but everything in you, all the voices and horrid thoughts were telling you to run away. You extended the knife outwards before getting a good luck, half expecting to find some poor guy on the end of it, but when you let your gaze properly shift, there is nothing. The room in front, which was definitely a room the operator would have been in, was completely empty.

The hand that didn’t grasp your knife moved to your stomach, suddenly finding it sick, doing flips as you tried to wrap your mind around the fact that nothing was in there. Had this all just been a misunderstanding? Surely they had control panels elsewhere that could control these things remotely, and you had just been making a fool of yourself this entire time. You flip your knife down, then back up, once or twice just to make yourself feel better, before you exhale a slow sigh of relief.

You turn about on your heels, mulling over what your story would be once you actually arrived at your destination, before the sound of footsteps once more filled the silence. You froze, swallowing hard as your head started to pound, aching with primal fear. You shifted your head slightly to one side, finding the previously dark room now lit by an almost ominous teal light, with a girl in an oversized hoodie standing in the middle. Did she have… Horns?

“Hey, cool kid”, Her voice was shrill and penetrating, ripping through the silence as if she could have done the same to your very soul with ease. Her hands were shoved deep into the hoodie’s pockets, and she was leaning back so that her horns were barely noticeable, but they were definitely there. After a moment of staring, she leaned forwards once more, grin forming wide upon her face to reveal a plethora of razor sharp teeth. 

“If you wanna run, I’ll give you a head start. Three seconds.” Her words echoed, though they may as well have went completely through your ears, your mind barely even registering that she had said anything at all. You find your feet taking a step backwards, then another, and if you weren’t so terrified, your legs would have definitely buckled beneath your own weight. They ached, and they screamed for any type of relief, but it wouldn’t come soon.

You turned quickly on your heels, finding yourself already in a full sprint down the slim hallway of chairs. A knee cracked loudly as it smacked against one of the chairs, and despite it appearing to be mostly cushioned, you couldn’t deny the sudden explosion of pain that made its way up your leg and somewhat into your pelvis. What took ten seconds felt like an eternity, your hand grasping against the door handle and forcing it down as quickly as you could. You made your way into it, finding yourself in a small connecting platform between the two cars. Barely a foot of open space, with rails on either side designed to protect you from going over. You weren’t aware of how fast you were really going, but getting an actual glimpse made you even more sick to your stomach than you already were.

You stop for only a moment, not daring a single second to catch your breath, though you curiously poke your head around. Vaguely, you make out the word ‘Three’ echoing through the entire tunnel, before your eyes lock once more onto the figure that had seemingly appeared as if from nowhere. You inhale sharply, hand already grasping for the next handle, as she takes her first step with an ear-shattering screech surrounding her. The windows surrounded the girl completely shattered, becoming little more than fine powder as it pooled upon the ground, and the lights that barely illuminated her flickered on and off before succumbing completely.

Frozen by fear, you merely watch as she takes another step, then another, another set of windows and lights cracking and sending both shards and sparks flying. You try to say something, to scream, or even gesture, but you can just barely manage your mouth open as you stare in utter awe. With each step she takes, it feels as if a horrid pressure is forcing you down, as if a million unseen hands were grasping upon your very person and pulling you deeper into the Earth. She gets about halfway through the aisle, broken glass glistening around her as the unnatural teal glow illuminates off of her, causing the shards to glisten in a myriad of bright colors. You’re mesmerized, for only a moment, before you manage to finally pull yourself into the next section of the tram.

It looked almost exactly the same, but something about it seemed... Off. The shadows appeared to be almost darker here. Perhaps there was a light that was blown or was simply missing, but you’re in too much of a hurry to actually tell. You slam the door shut behind you, already trying to make your way down the aisle. You trip over your own feet somewhat, trying to avoid hitting yourself against the chairs yet again, and barely manage to catch yourself as you fall to all fours, picking yourself back up briefly before tumbling over again.

A sharp inhale fills your lungs, everything in your body telling you to lie down and simply give up. You lift your head, wearily and through spinning vision. The next door was only a few feet away... Where would you go after you got to the final cart, though? There was nowhere to run after that. Would you dare jump? Did you really have a choice in the matter? Whoever that person was, they definitely weren’t human. They also definitely wanted to murder you. You groaned, your leg once more throbbing in pain as you picked yourself back up, resting down on a single knee.

A horrifyingly loud crash came from behind you, causing you to turn your head as fast as you could. The first car was pitch black, barely even visible to your eyes, with the person in front glowing more brightly than she had before. In front of her, on the ground, was the door that, to your knowledge, had been fairly sturdy. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the scene, ears ringing and head pounding as you tried to make any sense of what you were witnessing. This was absolute and utter madness.

You were back at a full sprint before you even knew really what was going on, your brain desperately trying to come up with a plan, any plan at all. You could hide, but there was nowhere to do that which wouldn’t take far, far too long to properly set yourself up. You could jump, but you were moving extraordinarily fast, and you highly doubted that you would survive intact. You cast a glance back, just far enough to see the teal tinted light slowly making its way towards your position as you threw the next door open.

You didn’t bother closing the door this time, believing it a worthless endeavor after witnessing what you had. The third car, you barely got a glance of, as you were moving so quickly, so desperately, your mind preoccupied, with your eyes set on the door that lead to the final cart. With a ragged breath, you force your legs to keep moving, the one you had injured earlier throbbing and threatening to force you down with every step that you made. Behind you, a symphony of shattering glass and electronics overloading into a high pitched whine beckoned you forwards. 

You shut your eyes, hands grasping desperately at the handle which you knew would be in front of you soon. You weren’t in shape, by any stretch of the imagination, and with your leg echoing pain throughout your entire body, the experience was starting to prove to be almost too much. You didn’t even add in the fact that a psychopath with apparent psychic powers was following you in the short train, almost definitely going to torture and very likely end your life once she caught up to you.

You’re outside, on the little connecting platform, staring down the door in front of you that would lead to the final car, to the area you would most certainly die. You stood there, the footsteps barely more than a murmur, though the explosions of glass were more than enough to keep you on edge. You glanced around for a moment, eyes landing on a ladder that went to the roof of the carts. You grit your teeth, forcing the door shut behind you. That was the only place to go, though you’d have to make it to the next if you were to have any hope to make it up. You force yourself to take a deep breath, opening the the last door in front of you before slamming it shut as well, and break into a full sprint once more.

By the time you had made it to the next door, you felt sure you would drop at any moment, your legs mere seconds from giving out. An eruption of noise behind you let you know that you had at least gained a little bit of distance from the person behind you, giving you at least a moment to catch your breath before you forced your way outside, slamming the door tightly shut. From the back, you could see clearly just how fast you were moving, much faster than anything you would have even remotely been comfortable with. You felt your stomach do another flip, hand gripping tightly against the railing before you quickly forced yourself to turn around, grasping onto the ladder that you knew would be there. It took more energy than you had to climb up, and as you made it to the top, you all but collapsed. It was flat with edges that curved upwards, but you couldn’t help but feel that any vague movement would send you hurtling ten or more feet below, crashing into the tracks that promised to batter your frail body beyond belief. 

You stay there for a moment, perhaps a minute or maybe ten, your breathing ragged and horrible.  Only shock permeates your mind, your thoughts settling mostly on,  _ ‘What the fuck just happened’ _ . Your eyes barely crack open, and though you don’t hear the door open below, don’t hear it crash or rip off its hinges as the others, you’re still extraordinarily terrified, half expecting the entire train to come to life to kill you by this point.

Your leg throbs once more, letting you know that it’s still alive and still very much in pain, though you can’t do much about it right now. Nothing feels cracked or broken, and you can move it around, though it’s not pleasant to do so. You force yourself upwards into a sitting position, scooting yourself forwards so as not to fall off, before you grasp your leg, forcing it to extend and bend back over and over. It’s vividly painful, but you heard this kind of thing usually helped.

A hand moved to your pocket, patting it over and over in vague hopes of finding your phone. A blurry memory enters your mind, and you swear once more, having to remind yourself that you left it back at your apartment. Honestly, the memory is barely there, and the amount of action that you can’t recall after the phone call is unsettling. You don’t even really remember how you got here, to be honest.

You glance behind you, before you pull yourself forwards just a little more. You would have to really, really try to fall off, to the point where it’s honestly not a thing that could happen even if you were jumping around up here, but you’d much prefer to keep it safe instead of sorry. You groan, forcing yourself to keep at least somewhat quiet, as you pull yourself upwards into a standing position.

You lean your hips forwards and arch your back, letting it crack just slightly. You entertain yourself with the thought that maybe, just maybe, you were actually starting to go insane. The whispers in your head had died out some time ago, but just thinking about them almost seemed to cause them to pick back up. You grit your teeth, inhaling sharply, glancing over the side to the platform you had just climbed from.

“Can’t just... Climb down...” You said to nobody in particular, your words barely an echo around the area, your voice mostly getting lost in the screeching whir of the tram’s acceleration on the tracks. You inhaled sharply, crimson eyes falling to a slow close for just a moment, before a shiver was sent down your spine.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go down there either. That crazy chick is still down there,” The voice was shrill and high pitched, originating from behind you as calm and natural as if you had known she were there the entire time. You tilted your head to the side, arching it backwards just slightly, enough to see that ominous teal glow and the person standing in front of you. 

You let your fist clutch tightly, hand shoving deep into your pocket for just a moment as you gripped the handle of your knife that you had miraculously not dropped. You’d probably only get a single shot at this, so you’d really have to make it count. She had probably climbed up one of the other ladders, ensuring no easy means of escape. 

You grit your teeth. 

You really didn’t want to die, today.

* * *

**== > Be the Teal Contractor**  
  


So, you had the best idea. You managed to track down the right Strider this time, which wasn’t hard, considering his soul is blackening faster than... Well, some kind of human fruit, you’re sure. Where Rose might smell like lavender like the sun when it’s just at its peak, the Strider boy smells like gears which are turning too heavy, of hellfire and magma forcing its way through every crevice. His smell is one that is easy to track, almost disappointingly so. Vriska thinks so, too, or at least you think. She’s stopped screaming so much, that little marble in your pocket lying dormant. She must finally be trying to fix herself.

He wasn’t where his smell initially was, though. You had to follow him around, track his steps, so to speak. In your hoodie, nobody even so much as let their gaze fall on you for a single second, which made it much easier to find him. Where it took him two hours to move, it took you ten minutes. He wasn’t even trying to run, even though he obviously should have felt you coming. He was just wandering, walking lost in a city that didn’t care where he ended up, and that was absolutely precious. 

This idea, though, was definitely something that you were proud of. He had made his way into a subway tunnel at the peak, early hours of the morning, crawling his way around as if he were practically begging for something like this to happen. The tram was empty of a conductor, though that posed no problem for you. Getting them moving was hardly a chore, considering the influence your kind held over the human’s prized technology. 

You could have simply revealed yourself to him right then and there, as soon as the tram had started moving. But showmanship was important to you, and no grand entrance was made without some level of detail. You think to yourself, idly, that these easy contracts were worth getting to flaunt your abilities. The pizazz was soothing to your ego. 

So you exerted a little more power than usual, revealing yourself and forcing your own aura outwards to break a few windows and lights. It wasn’t a hard trick, but Strider almost tore his own legs off trying to run away from you. When he got to the end, he even climbed up top, which was painfully obvious by him collapsing and making a horrific banging noise on the roof. You waited for a moment, climbed up a different ladder, and scared him twice. This night was amazing, since you hardly ever had contracts play exactly into your plans. All that was left was to take him back to Rose, and you’d be free to do what you pleased.

No more contracts holding you down from doing what you wanted. 

You grinned, one hand on your hip and the other hanging loose at your side. He’s got his hand in his pocket, a weapon obviously stowed away in there. Maybe a little knife, since you know humans are practically enamored with the things. You let your teal aura dim down a little, wanting to give him a bit of false hope when he tried to plunge it into you, maybe assisting with his horrendous aim a bit. Your grin was from ear to ear, half excited to see his expression when he realized that he was staring face to face with his demise.

It took him ages, but he finally pulled it out. It took him a second that was far too long to flip the blade out, even longer to actually make his move towards you. 

You grit your teeth, suddenly overcome with some sort of physical and mental pressure, your body moving out of the way of the blade before it could even come into contact with your skin. Your arms raise, half in a panic, to grab the arm he had the knife in and grasp it tightly. You took a knee, dropping his arm onto your shoulder before lifting his entire form up and over your shoulder to come crashing down onto the tram. 

You stopped for a moment, lips breaking from their closed position as you watched curiously. You had no idea what that power was, perhaps Lalonde or Kanaya scrying on your position, but it was intense, enough to make you flinch. 

You grit your razor teeth, picking yourself back up. His knife had fallen off the tram, or at least you surmise, so you pressed both fists against your hips and tapped your foot against him. You pulled back with your foot, giving him a swift kick to the ribs which made him cry out, clutching tightly at his side with one arm.

“C’mon, get up,” You cackled, taking a step back. “Get up, and I’ll give you one more swing at me, alright?” You pulled yourself down and low, almost feral in nature as you arched your back up. It didn’t do much to position yourself like this, but it made you look much, much more intimidating. A shame that you wouldn’t get to use your sword - as summoning sickness prevented you from calling it to the mortal plane - but even without it, you posed much more of a threat than he did. 

He pulls himself back up to his feet, ragged and weary as he glances to you for a moment. His eyes seem to brighten for a split second, the red irises flaring and casting a small glow, and the mere thought makes you laugh, that perhaps some dormant power could be lying within him.

You could practically taste his soul with how close you were, the scent overwhelmingly of something mundane and pathetic. He straightens out, once more coming at you, the glint of steel in his hand forcing you to flinch yet again. Strider had maintained his hold on the blade, and though you tilted out of his way, it was unexpected. He passed by, forcing the blade as far as it would go into your shoulder. You screamed, not in pain, but perhaps in surprise, as you turned yourself about and forced an elbow into the crook of his neck, just above the area that would have completely paralyzed him. Years of experience had taught you what mortals could and could not handle.

He hit the ground again, though he took a knee. Your left hand came to grasp at the knife, pulling it out violently with a spray of teal blood exploding from the wound. You tossed the knife over the side of the tram, and with a flash, you were already grasping at the back of his neck. It took almost no effort to lift him upwards, both of his hands grasping tightly at yours, the warm flesh pressing against your icy form. You hissed with rage, sucking in air through your teeth that you didn’t need, before you flipped yourself around to one side, holding him off the edge of the moving cart.

“That was a mistake, Strider,” You practically roared into the darkness. “You are the first human to have hurt me in in nigh a long time, and I am not going to take this lightly.” The anger practically swelled inside of you, though you shut your eyes for but a moment, before tossing him back to the side so that he would land against the tram once more. You shook your head, crouching low once more to belittle him.

“Get up.”

It took him longer this time, his body staggering slightly even as he took a knee and pulled himself back up. He was harmless to you in this state, surely, but you had to make a point. It had been hundreds of years since you had actually taken a wound, and for someone this weak to do so? It was as if he were spitting upon you. He pulled his fists upwards, aiming them towards you as he drooped slightly. This was just going to be sad.

You took a step forwards, as did he, and you lifted a hand upwards to catch the arm that he obviously had intended to throw the punch with. Your hand grasped tightly around his fist, your lips pulling up to a smile as he seemed almost defeated, already seeing how futile this was. He pulled his other arm up, throwing it towards you as well, but as it wasn’t his dominant hand, you grasped onto it even easier than the first. You laughed, straight into his face, your eyes piercing through his before you twisted your body with his hands still in yours, spinning once or twice before letting him go.

He flew much farther than you had anticipated, rolling against the cart so that he was barely an inch from falling off. You sighed, almost becoming bored with the spectacle, your foot tapping gently against the tram. You shoved your hands into the pocket of your hoodie, shaking your head from side to side for a moment. A hand raised upwards to your shoulder, slowly exerting energy enough to close the wound that was still gushing. He must have hit somewhere decent, so you had to give him that, that least. You straighten up, tilting your head back and letting your glow reform entirely.

“Are you done, now? Are we done with this?” You ask, though in his state, you’d be surprised if he could even respond. If it looks right, he’s broken a rib and you might’ve accidentally broken one of his fingers. You shrug, figuring that you’ll get an earful from Rose, but she said she only wanted him alive, never anything about how battered or injured he was allowed to be. Or, at least, you didn’t think she did.

Strider lifts his head just barely, his red eyes practically flickering as you could smell his very essence withering as his eyes did. He pulled a hand up, finger pointing to something just past your shoulder, and you cross your arms. He mouths something, some kind of warning that you almost take to be a threat, and it makes you laugh. Something, something,  _ ‘no, really, get down’ _ , and you can hardly believe he’s trying to weasel his way out this situation in such a pitiful way.

His warning apparently rings true when a low hanging lattice collides into the back of your head, sending you face first down onto the tram. If you weren’t a demon, that probably would have been immediately fatal, and with how hard you came down onto the metal car, you’re surprised that you didn’t leave an imprint of your entire body. Your blue glow vanishes for a moment, the consciousness and rationale leaving you for a few seconds. You pull yourself upwards, finding the Strider human making his way to you.

On your hands and knees, it is all you can do to force yourself forwards into him, an odd type of panic overtaking you as he stumbles his way over. The same kind of fear that you felt when he first assaulted you, but this was much worse. Perhaps it was because that had really, really hurt? You shook your head, just barely, angling your it downwards. Your horns were ethereal, but you had at least hoped to gore him as you forced all your weight into his stomach, tackling both him and yourself onto the tracks far below. With him on the bottom, hopefully he’d take the brunt of the force.

* * *

You open your eyes. You’re lying in a black void, with nothing surrounding you but the echoes of some distant, dull roar. You pick yourself up, brushing off your body for a moment. That hoodie you had taken was covered in filth and torn in one place, but still entirely usable. You close your eyes, focusing for a moment to allow a light, much darker than your normal bright glow, to force its way off of you. You let your eyes absorb the light, and suddenly, things are much, much more clear.

Strider is a few feet away from you, and despite how he looked before you both fell, he somehow looks much, much worse. You take a step over to him, then another, that immense pressure still forcing down on you, and you hate it so much, you wish you could just find out where it’s coming from. 

You pull your foot back, giving him another swift kick to the same spot you had before, which elicits a groan in response. Alright, he’s not dead, that much is sure. The response is quick and loud, too, so he’s not even really  _ that _ injured.. Hopefully, you suppose.

You kneel down, a hand grasping at his side to pull him over and onto his back. His mouth is open, body ragged and bruised and beaten, and you sigh somewhat to yourself. People tell you that you have a temper, but it’s nowhere near as bad as Vriska’s. The problem is that sometimes, things like this happen. You growl under your breath, picking yourself back up. You’d just have to contact Rose or Kanaya and get them to open a portal for you. A hand came to your head, index finger pressing against the very center of your forehead.

It shouldn’t have taken long. Rather, it should have barely taken a murmur of what you could exert, but for some reason, it was as if a wall had been formed around your mind. You stood for a moment, turning away from your prey, teeth gritting and running against each other. The blood in your mouth had already started to pool, jagged teeth scratching against flesh just as quickly as you could repair it. You were really not in a good mood.

Your eyes glanced downwards, head tilting to one side. You could very easily carry him to Rose’s abode, but it would take at least an hour, and you ran the risk of someone obviously, noticing you and your victim. Head tilted to one side, you spit, and it comes out teal and disgusting, a blob of blood with very little else in it. You tapped your foot against Strider once more, deciding to take your frustration out on him, by bringing your foot against his side yet again.

* * *

**== > Be the Second Gifted**

The strange girl brought her foot to your side once more, the pain enough to send your eyes exploding open. 

You were blind, for a moment, as if you had been unconscious for a very, very long time. Even as you regained your sight,  a mixing of bright red and dull teal light made it harder to see, though you could smell the one who had harmed you. You were on your feet faster than you could have thought possible, and though you were vaguely aware of bones crackling inside of you, the pain was dulled, an odd feeling of static forming in your chest as opposed to actual harm. The horned one, as well, had taken a step or two back upon seeing you. Yes... The Horned One...

You open your mouth to roar, to scream, to cry, though none of those noises come out. Instead, your tongue trips over itself, lips moving yet forcing themselves into weird angles as the ‘words’ spilled out, fading as if water upon sand, creating not a sentence nor a motion, but merely a clump of something foreign. Your hands are almost upon the ground as you take off on a sprint, barely giving her or yourself time to register what you had just said.

You close the few feet between you two in less than two seconds, your fist rising without a second thought to collide directly into the glowing fiend. The blow is enough to stagger her, and you raise your other hand to collide into her yet again as she recovers, sending her back a few feet. She, of course, lands firmly upon her heels, digging into the ground as a cane forms as if from nowhere in her hand, her face beaded with sweat and great strain from the motion. The other grasps the top, pulling out a sword with a blade that was around three feet long, the hilt of which was a roaring dragon. She mouthed something, but you couldn’t hear, or perhaps didn’t care, what she said.

You charged forwards yet again, and as she swung her blade forwards, you ducked underneath it. She brought it back up, causing you to dash to one side, but it clips you on the way down before you collide directly into her mid-section. The both of you roll upon the ground, landing roughly on a set of prongs that kept the old track in place. She was on top of you, but then you were on her, forced into a power struggle that you were deadset to beat. 

When you finally settled, she was on top of you, hands desperately grabbing for her blade which she had just only managed to grasp hold of in the struggle. You shift and shake, though her legs wrap tightly around you, both of her hands grasping tightly upon the hilt of her sword. Bloodied lips part once more to say something, though nothing comes out this time, instead forcing all of your energy into, quite literally, lifting her off of you and tossing her aside. The blade lands with a loud echo, sliding a bit further away from her.

She almost screams as she stands and you’re upon her again, your hand wrapped around her throat and already grasping tightly, desperate to crush her neck. One of her hands is bashing against the one that had her grasped, the other desperately flailing, hitting you over and over as you lift her into the air. 

"Mnahn’nyth - Stell’bsna n’gha." The words slip over your tongue much more naturally, the dialect seeming familiar and easy to speak, though all at once, you can’t seem to remember the words you want to say. “Pray for Death, because what I am going to do to you is much worse.” Your voice is dark, echoing around as if someone were playing it in reverse at the same time that you were speaking. Your thoughts were clouded, the whispers having become screaming since you had awoken, every fiber of your existence seeking to utterly destroy the person in front of you. 

She struggled for a moment more, one fist clenching tightly before she shifted just enough to get a decent angle, and before you could move, it collides into you. The red and teal mixture of light instead morphs again, settling more on teal than red, as the wind leaves your lungs. You sputter, dropping the horned girl in front of you before finding her fist once more colliding into your jaw, sending your gaze skywards. You take a step back, glancing down just in time to see her dashing to her sword, sliding upon the rough ground to grab it before easily standing back up. 

The pain once more dulls out after a moment, your own form kneeling just slightly to grab one of the railway prongs that had been long since knocked loose. 

You shift, moving your body so that it flicks to the wall, breaking off a piece of the rusted metal so that it ended in a jagged, sharp end. You take a step forward, and she takes one too, before you both start moving about in a circle. You inhale sharply, trying to find your breath, and the moment you finally blink, she’s upon you. 

Her arms plunge forwards, trying to drive her sword directly into you, and though you see it coming from a mile away, you can’t move yourself fast enough to entirely avoid it. The blade pierces into your side, ripping straight through flesh and causing a great ripple of pain to force its way through you. You open your mouth to scream, though action instead takes its place as you swing the pipe forwards, the jagged edge digging into the side of her face. A horrid, ugly gash is left upon her, and for a moment, you believe you can see a piece of her bone. She shrieks, a horrible, ear-shattering screech, before she takes one hand off her blade and raises it upwards yet again.

You’re far too winded to move out of the way, finding black filling your vision yet again.

As you hit the ground, it comes apparent that you can barely move your own body. The red light that had flooded from... Somewhere... Had all but dissipated, instead leaving the dull teal light to take over. You can just barely see the person in front of you take a knee, horrid globs of flesh and crimson and teal blood dripping around her. You’re sure that if you could see yourself, you would see the exact same thing, a soon-to-be corpse lying in a pool of their own blood. You choke out something, words that meant nothing that you weren’t even sure of what they meant, before a horrid scent of lavender filled the air around you.

The girl in front of you stood, shaky, and walked forwards. She was going to kill you at last, you decided. She was on her way to drive her blade directly into your chest and twist it and wait for your blood to drain and slowly cause you to wither away. 

You watch her take a few steps, shaky, before she stops and glances at you. She spits, a combination of her blood and saliva hitting against your cheek, before she takes one more step, completely disappearing as if she had never been there in the first place.

You close your eyes. Had you really been imagining things all along? You had actually gone insane, had actually jumped off of a moving tram and likely impaled yourself with a sharpened pipe or something. You let your eyes open once more, finding only a black abyss enveloping you, though you weren’t quite sure if it was merely the tunnel or if you were actually dead. You felt like you had been hit by that train, and then ten more.

Slowly, desperately, you find that you could pull yourself up into a sitting position, You cough, and when only blood escapes your lungs, you decide that you should probably get some help. Weary legs barely responded to you, hobbling steps only just barely making any real progress. After ten or so minutes, you find yourself back on a docking platform. If anyone saw you now, they’d likely think you were almost murdered. Perhaps you were, or perhaps you were a stark, raving crazyman who they’d look upon with contempt.

The stairs to the surface were an almost insurmountable challenge, though you welcomed the cold night air on your burning flesh. You were bleeding fairly badly, though when you moved to check on the gaping wound on your side, you found it oddly closed, without even a scar to show that you had been injured. You let your eyes shut, thinking about the locations of places that could be around this area.

If you remembered right, John had recently bought a place that wasn’t that far of a walk away. You could get there before dawn, if you were to really hurry. You needed help, and though you really didn’t want him to see you this way, what choice did you have? The voices that echoed in your mind had calmed down, aside from a single one, repeating a phrase over and over.

  
**_Today is not the day you perish._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **R'leyhian Translations:**  
>    
> _Mnahn’nyth - Stell’bsna n’gha_ \- Worthless fool, pray for death.


	7. Sanguinis Sitis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She reeked beauty and grace, but her core gave way to something much more sinister. Deception was her game of chess, and she reveled in her power to sway others. Kanaya Maryam; her name served a warning for all.

**== > Be the Jade Deceiver**

At your place by Rose’s side, there is no light that filters in. It is cold, dank, dark, and reminds you of your own home in Derse. The Coven that follows you, and in return, those that you watch over, has always been perfectly at home in the shadows. There were stories long, long ago of your kind stalking the mortal realm within the shadows, silent hunters with jagged teeth and vicious talons, but they are likely just that. You preoccupy yourself with the thought every now and again, as your Summoner has not been utilizing your talents. To put it blunt, you are very, very bored.

In the quiet times, which is to say always, you have meditated. The Summoning Sickness had mostly left you some hours ago, though there was still some semblance of it left upon your person. The ‘sickness’, as it were, was little more than the effort and power required to shift from one realm to another, but since Derse and Earth were naturally connected, it wasn’t truly that bad. Your silent thoughts, sitting idle as Rose issued orders to those few remaining with her, were truly all that kept you company, kept you from releasing your full powers and utterly devastating those around you. You had already fed, but you had taken it easy. A vampire truly always knew that the last drop of blood was always the most satisfying.

In truth, Rose’s warehouse-castle had started to take shape quite well. From what you could remember, it had started out as little more than a cube of steel, hollowed on the inside with a door or two serving as actual rooms. Now, however, it was grand, or at least more than what it was. Time had an odd way of flowing in the mortal plane, but with how little manpower there was available, and with how Rose was so temperamental, so unsure in how she wanted things set up, this was starting to become quite the fortress. It was not even that she needed a fortress, in truth, as she had something much more dangerous than any number of humans, than any wall of soldiers willing to throw their pitiful existences away for her.

She had you, of course. Of the three or so demons you had actually witnessed her properly summon, you were by far the strongest. It was not simply the fact that you had been alive the longest, but perhaps the fact that you commanded the second strongest Coven in Derse. Years of combat, hundreds upon hundreds, training under the one who turned you, and you had truly become a force to be reckoned with. You did not have strength to match perhaps a Rage Demon, or the wits to outsmart a Ghost, but you made up with it by sheer and utter violence, and combat instincts that prepared you for any scenario. If that were not enough, you had also formed quite the reputation for yourself as one who had a silver tongue. You were fairly well known, if truth were told.

Your summoner, however, was quite different. She was a pale child, barely over twenty years old, if you were to wager a guess. She was delicately beautiful, yet had a core forged from disgusting black. She possessed a form and voice that could cause an army to fall to its very knees as she dropped the blade that cleaved their heads from their necks one by one. She moved with the gait of royalty, and perhaps that was fair, as if her plans were to come to fruition, she very well would be. You had tasted of her blood, and though it lacked obscene power, lacked the magnitudes of strength you had tasted before, there was something more within her. You had feasted upon power and strength, but never had you tasted something so eldritch, so foreign yet familiar, and felt power more than you had when you bit into her wrist.

You would have to do it again, soon.

Rose stirred in her throne, a large, black mass that vaguely had a shape to resemble a chair, cushioned and covered in black feathers as she had requested. She had a style for flair, though you would have at least had the decency to create a minor throne for yourself. You were upon your knees at her side, casting a cautionary glance to her as she lifted herself just slightly. You find the corners of your lips pulling upwards, realizing she had been sleeping moments ago. You had not even noticed, but now that you watched, her breathing increased, and you could practically hear her heartbeat..

Your tongue flicked out for a moment, your predatory eyes coming to a close as you stared forwards. You could not remain here for much longer. The hunger was something you could normally control, but the Sickness, as well as simply being on this plane, was starting to actually drive you utterly insane.

She lifted herself to her feet, wobbling just slightly, only to find herself wrapped about in your arms. You had barely remembered the thought to catch her before she fell, but it felt completely normal as her warm flesh ran against your cold skin. Your lips pull apart, revealing fangs that had become far too long, far too jagged for an easy penetration. Her fair skin revealed beautiful blue veins, and she seemed almost willing as you slowly gazed upon her neck.

Without a warning, you release her. If she had not been expecting this, you are very sure that she would have fallen upon the ground, and you could not find the capacity to care. You had already taken a step or two away from her, moving towards the only door in the room. You stopped short, finding a scent in the air of something mechanical. You inhaled once more, the smell fading after a short moment.

You needed to feed on something, finding yourself halfway content with simply taking one of Rose’s humans that seemed to follow her every whim and command.

You glance back to Rose, finding her against the far wall, one hand already shoving itself against the it. Realization struck immediately, your body gliding across the room eagerly as you placed your hand against the other symbol that had long since faded. You glance to her, casting an unsure glance, before releasing your power into the symbol. At once, a portal appeared, followed shortly by a teal-blooded Contractor, sliced to utter ribbons and dripping gore all over Rose’s clean floors. You frown, offering a single hand to her as she takes a knee. She glances at you, and you to her, a mental link establishing after only a moment.

_‘What happened?’_ You think, though you truly already know the answer. There is a followup, though there is no sound. You simply understand what she means to say, what she tries to tell you, but is unable. Rose merely watches, and you remind yourself to tell her about this when your ordeals are done. _‘The Strider boy?’_ Terezi nods, and you cross your arms, letting the portal start to flicker and dissipate.

“Miss Rose,” You start, and find your voice cracking and rough, a sign that you were closer than you had originally thought to losing yourself. “I have a need to feed, but I fear I would harm you should I continue with you, though I expect you will find yourself eager again soon.” You cast a coy smile, finding the muscles hard to force upwards even for such a simple task. “I must ask, however, if your dearest Brother has any friends?”

This was going to be entertaining.

* * *

**== > Be the Struggling Optimist**

Things could have been worse. Things could have been much, much better. Lost in the moment, sitting on the side of the road with your car ass-up in a ditch, you had found that you had no more tears in you, no more capacity to cry. You release a heavy sigh as Jake clambered out behind you, half trying to appear busy and half actually trying to fix anything at all. You took a glance back at your bright pink car, which forced your visage into a sour frown.

You force yourself forwards again, clasping your hands together and letting one leg drape over the other. Pink eyes shut slowly, breathing in the frigid air as the morning sun had just barely started to rise in the sky. There was no warmth to it, merely being a beacon of light that perhaps things were going to start turning around. Jake swearing loudly in the background certainly did nothing to help that thought. You leaned back, a bit too far, finding yourself lying upon the dirt on the side of a road to nowhere, at hours that any sane person wouldn’t have even been awake, with a car that didn’t work and a potential murderer as your best friend.

“What are we going to do?” You ask to the morning chill, to the mist that had just started to roll in from seemingly nowhere. You spread your arms out on the ground, probably ruining your clothing, but you didn’t care by this point. “Dirk was dead, Jake.” You said, as if he were not aware of it. “He was dead, and then he ripped my car door off the body and shoved us with enough force to cause me to swerve into a ditch.”

The words left your mouth, but you weren’t sure _you_ even believed them. This entire day had been completely ridiculous. This entire day made no sense. In a few moments, you’re sure you’d find yourself waking up, home in your bed and having drank yourself into a coma filled with crazy dreams. You pinched yourself on the arm, finding it to hurt for just a moment, before you sighed, a long, pathetic sigh that made the air in front of you turn to mist in the cold.

There was a loud noise of metal colliding against metal behind you, one you assumed to be Jake closing some part of your car. He had the hood open earlier, which was impressive given the angle it was currently at. He mumbled something under his breath, though you couldn’t quite make it out, something about ‘Dirk being here’, though he stopped short before finishing the sentence. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about the way he talked turned your mood even more sour than it already was before. You lifted yourself up yet again, actually taking a moment to look at the total damage to your car.

Two broken windows, one of the doors was completely thrown to the side about fifteen feet down the road, but Jake had apparently dragged it back to your position. It looked as if two of the tires had been torn apart, but you couldn’t be sure, given they were completely and utterly shoved into the mud. Not a whole lot of body damage other than that, which you suppose you were thankful for. It would cost a lot to fix, but it wasn’t like you had any shortage of funds. You let your mind linger on those thoughts only for a moment longer, before you pull yourself up to a stand.

“Jake,” You started, but immediately lose the words you had in your mouth. You glance to him, then angle your head downwards, frowning as you consider your phrasing. He was already worse off than you were, probably, and you definitely didn’t want to make him cry or anything. Once was enough for the big guy.

He merely looked up to you for a second, one hand resting against the side of your car, then sighed. He stretched his body out, and for just a few moments, you could actually see just how muscular he was. He certainly wasn’t a bodybuilder, but years of athletics and just actual working out had toned him to be very athletically built. It almost reminded you of your own body, but you hadn’t actually been properly working out for months, at this point.

“I’m sorry,” You weren’t sure if you said it or if he did, both of your lips moving though it felt as if neither of you had truly said anything. Your eyes stung, almost as if you were about to start sobbing again, but you were definitely not capable of doing so. A hand pulled upwards into your hair as you glanced off to the side for just a moment.

“Don’t know why you’re sorry,” The words left your mouth, but you knew damned well what he had to be sorry for. “This isn’t your fault.” Except without anything to go on, it was almost definitely his fault. You glanced to the side, your eyes wandering to barely meet his bright green ones. Your tongue flicked out, licking your lips as the cold had completely chapped them.

“Why I’m sorry,” Jake started, stopping short as if he didn’t quite know the answer to that himself. “There was a million things I could have done differently. A trillion things I could have done to make sure it wasn’t him, but instead me, or... Or the... Demons!” He shouted the last part, and as soon as it left his mouth, it caused your mind to shift to utter anger. He was blaming demons, now? Demons? As in the stuff of nightmares that parents warned their children about? It infuriated you, causing your blood to boil, and suddenly you found yourself not being that cold anymore.

You yelled, nothing discernible, but instead just a scream to the dim morning. He flinched back, taking a step back as you took two or three forwards, finding yourself completely upon him in a matter of moments. Your fists balled tightly at your sides, before one came up to grab his shirt’s collar and pull him downwards so that you were actually face to face. You never really realized how tall he actually was, but he must have had at least six inches on you.

“Jake!” You screamed, your voice cracking just barely. If you could have cried, you would have most definitely been doing it by this point. “You’re still going to blame this on... On something that doesn’t exist? Some weird, glowing girl and her spider-veined best friend, both of which who had horns and turned to smoke when they died?! Do you realize how insane that sounds?!”

“A-Ash, Roxy girl... They turned to ash.” He stated matter-of-factly, as if it was the simplest thing anyone could have understood. His head tilted to one side, lips curling far downwards wrinkling his chin as he did so. “And, I’m not lying. They were bloody... Bloody monsters or something! Roxy... Why would I lie about this? Why would I lie about killing my boyfriend?”

Your heart sank for a moment. You pulled your other fist backwards, a second or two away from colliding with his face, just begging him to stop talking, to admit that he had murdered Dirk. You didn’t even know they were dating. Butterflies swelled up in your stomach, making you sick, almost as if you could have thrown up at any moment. They were dating, then? Him and Janey hadn’t even been broken up for that long, and he had already...

You found your fist colliding not with his face, but instead his stomach, just below the ribs. It wasn’t extremely hard, but it was effective, his arms wrapping around his stomach as quickly as you had pulled your fist away. You shoved him back, and he stumbled and fell over into the mud, completely covering the lower half of his wardrobe. You instantly felt a twinge of guilt, but it was far too late as you turned yourself around, inhaling sharply.

“Walk home, Jake.” The words left your mouth despite you not wanting them to. You knew he lived at least twenty minutes away if you were taking a car, and figured it would have taken him much longer on foot, but you couldn’t find yourself caring, couldn’t find yourself wanting to talk with him any longer. You glanced back at him, finding tears somehow welling themselves in your eyes again, and you weren’t even sure where they were coming from. He opened his mouth to talk, but no words escaped.

“Just fucking go, Jake! Go!”

* * *

**== > Be the Wild One**

Your name is Jake English. With recent events, you have found yourself getting more and more displeased, and from extremely current events, you could say that your thoughts have turned downright horrendous. Your best friend just punched you, not a friendly jab, but an actual, hate-filled assault to both your body and your psyche. On top of that, your other best friend, who might have been your boyfriend, got murdered in front of you and all you could do was simply stand there and watch. The worst part, you think, is that after you told his brother, you heard only his screams, followed by five minutes of Roxy trying to get him to respond.

This could have been avoided. This could have easily, easily been avoided if you had simply pulled your arm up and fired your gun, or thrown yourself in front of Dirk when the spider-girl shot, or... Or anything at all! The two girls chased you down, and though you did manage to shoot the one who shot Dirk, what good did that do? You were too late, and the other one just laughed and kept you alive because she thought it was ‘cute’ that you had actually managed to kill one of them.

You were going crazy. You had to be. Your feet fell step by step in the bitter chill of the early morning, walking in a direction to a house you weren’t entirely sure was actually there. You normally talked with Roxy or Dirk when you got like this, which wasn’t often, but often enough to have a backup since they were definitely not in any position to talk with you right now. You shoved your hands into your pockets, eyes locked tightly on the ground as you inhaled sharply, causing a stinging sensation to run through your throat. You really hoped that John wouldn’t mind you dropping in so early.

In truth, you barely remembered where he even lived. You could walk for miles, wandering the giant square that made up Arkham and you wouldn’t be any closer than you were hours ago. For a brief moment, you stopped in consideration of walking back, getting on your knees and begging Roxy to help, but you had never seen her like that before. You grimace, and almost feel as if you were going to vomit, before you continued your stride. You really messed it up, this time, English.

One more step, your mind tells you, one more, one more, one more. Step by step fades into nothingness, a seemingly desperate attempt to force yourself onwards, the chilling wind starting to bite horrendously into your form, even despite how accustomed you had become to Arkham nights. There was a passing of time, though it could not have been much, because as you stare at the sun which had scarcely moved since you began, you find yourself leaning against a wall, crouched down into a sitting position, all but begging to be able to lie down, to just forget.

You open your lips to say something, anything, to anyone who would care to listen, but find both the streets and your own mind empty, the words hollow as much as they might not even well have been there. You were alone, with the only thing to keep you company in the entire city, maybe the entire world, this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that you were starting to believe may have actually been real nausea. On top of all this mess you were getting sick, or the world wasn’t done kicking you while you were down, apparently.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, finding the air too bitter to want to swallow. You pulled your hands from your pockets, wrapping them about your chest in some vague attempt to keep warm. Your eyes shut, and for a moment, you could smell... Something. A vague scent of a musty room, or perhaps of a light bulb that had just extinguished itself, blown with nobody around to care. You were cold at first, but suddenly found yourself shivering, barely able to keep still without moving.

“My, a poor Lost One, all alone and sitting in the dark,” The voice was elegant and smooth, barely a whisper but echoing from all around you. You pulled yourself to lean forwards, glancing up and down the alley you had found yourself in, and upon finding nobody there, declare yourself officially and utterly insane. You were hearing voices now, and that was something you really couldn’t quite bring yourself to deal with at the moment.

“Here, Lost One,” The words flowed like milk and honey, drawing you into them despite the vague sense of hostility that caused a shiver to run down your spine, though you also suppose it could be the numbing cold. “Come to me, embrace me, for we have much to discuss.” A set of arms emerged from the space behind you, which couldn’t have been more than a few inches. They draped around your shoulders, slowly wrapping about your neck in a slow caress. They continued to drape around you, forcing you to move forward inch by inch, until a set of lips pressed gently against your neck, your own body resting upon the lap of someone who had quite literally just emerged from your shadow.

“Who…?” You start, but find yourself leaning back into her despite yourself. Small, rosy kisses lined your neck for a moment, one hand that was as black as midnight coming to your chin, her index finger pressing over your lips to silence you. Your heartbeat was racing, every instinct telling you to run or leave, though you found yourself unwilling. You were starting to warm up.

“Let me ask you something, Mortal,” Her words became fluent, a whisper directly into you earlobe, which in turn caused yet another shiver to take your body. The voice sounded familiar, but foreign in a way of odd mystique, like a friend you hadn’t seen for a long, long time. “Were I to say the name of ‘Kanaya Maryam’, would you happen to know of who I speak?”

Memories flooded into your mind, of the library where your hand had been impaled, of where Dave had passed out for at least an hour and the... Horrible, horrible stench followed by a somehow worse source. The name ‘Kanaya Maryam’ passes by your lips, causing that feeling in the pit of your stomach to amplify. You’ll definitely have to find a place to wander in a moment to throw up, and that thought doesn’t much help.

The shadow behind you merely grins, its lips pressing once more against your neck, and as you twist your head, you just make out the set of peculiar horns that circle about her head; one ending in a hook and the other extending upwards into a spike. You cough, trying to get any words out of your mouth, though you merely manage to whimper as she pulls your body back against hers.

“Calm yourself, now, Summoner,” She starts, and you find that she smells like choking smoke, her proximity to you making it almost hard to breath. “If I was going to harm you, I would have done so long ago. There would have been no need to make myself known.” There was logic to her words, but it didn’t make you feel any better. “Besides, laws dictate that I can’t physically harm my Summoner, so calm down.”

Your mouth, which was already dry, somehow became even more so. Your lips parted to respond, only to find that her fingers wrapped once more about your visage, three or four placing delicately upon your lips. After a moment of sitting in silence, of her form wrapping about yours and somehow making yours even more cold, you barely manage to utter a few words.

“What are you?”

It was enough to cause her to stifle a small laugh, her lips reverberating into your neck. Her arms moved down your body, wrapping about your torso with fingers clasping together in the middle. You shifted, just to find that she was strong, very much so, that you could barely move yourself if you had truly wanted too. You wait in agonized silence for what seems like an eternity, the morning sun completely blocked out of view from your current vantage, though you believe that you’re okay with that for the time being. And then, for the first time in nearly twenty four hours, you felt... Truly safe.

She takes far too long to respond, far too long for your liking, save for her hands slowly trailing your body, as if to find out every little detail you had to offer. She seems content, with your head barely shifting to the side, barely making out her facial features. Perhaps pretty, though it was almost odd in how she looked. Not something divine, but not something human. She cracks a smile as she catches you watching her, which causes you to pull your head downwards immediately, and you weren’t quite sure why.

She hums in thought for a single moment, before she releases you from her grasp, though you dare not move away from her. She licks her lips, which causes you to realize just how chapped yours were, and though you try not to, you lick yours in response. Great, now you probably look creepy. She chortles, a small giggle that seemed almost unfitting of her character, before a hand came to gently stroke your hair.

“I’m your best nightmare, Jake English.”

* * *

 You aren’t entirely sure when you pulled yourself up to a stand, nor are you sure when you came to face the person who moments ago was three steps from molesting you. You eye her warily, and for good reason, after you take a decent look at her. She looks as if she had just stepped out of the darkness, full form with blackened clothing and a green kerchief about her neck. Her eyes glowed a predatory jade, slitted like a cat’s as she stared you up and down with something that wasn’t quite malice. She stood tall, very tall, quite an odd sight given you were usually the biggest person in any room, but she was thin and wiry. If you had passed her in the alley, you likely wouldn’t have even seen her.

She has fangs, if you could call them that. Instead, she has rows of jagged teeth that you feel you could easily compare to a shark’s. The thought almost sends yet another chill down your spine, finding yourself shivering again in the cold night. She’s got one hand upon her hip, the other hanging loose at her side, and she seems two seconds from simply jumping you, eager to slaughter with those talons that form upon her fingers.

“A demon?” You ask, your lips curling over the question. She had said as much as you were repositioning yourselves, but you didn’t quite give it much thought until now. “As in, the opposite of Angels? The metaphorical manifestation of all evil in the world?” You have to force yourself not to grin, and it seems she has to do the same not to frown. You cross your arms, and her eyes glare daggers through you.

“No,” She starts, turning her head to one way to give you a better view of just how massive her horns were upon her head. “We are Souls that were strong enough in death to turn our lives around in Derse.” She stops for a moment at your puzzled glance, before she sighs, “I believe you Mortals often call it Heaven and Hell, but We refer to them as Derse and Prospit.” She seems satisfied as you nod, but waits a minute for any questions before she continues on.

“We turn our lives around in Derse. There are a few things that Humans got correct, such as a war between the two and someone being exiled out of Prospit, but the details are... Incorrect, to say the least.” You tap your foot, finding it all nigh impossible to believe. For all you knew, she could have just been some weird girl who painted herself black and glued a set of horns to her head.

“Alright, let's say for the sake of this hogwash that I believe you. There’s two things that I need.” She perks an eyebrow up, an amused grin slowly forming upon her lips. “First, I need proof that you are what you say you are. I don’t think that’s asking too much of you, miss.” You cough into your hand, straightening your back out. “Second, if you’re actually... Actually a demon,” You barely stifle the borderline hysteric laugh that was forming, “I need some proof you’re not just going to throttle me as soon as I turn my back.”

She steps forwards, and for a moment, you find her presence almost too much to bear, some kind of odd strength pressing against you, though you chalk it up merely to being absolutely and utterly exhausted. She extends a hand outwards, then the other, before she slowly pulls her hands outwards. You notice, if only subconsciously, that she didn’t quite appear to be breathing. She lets her eyes close, before leaning over very far, hands grasping tightly against her chest.

There’s a horrid crack of ripping flesh, of tearing bone, before a horrendous spray of Jade blood and blackened flesh coat the floor and walls behind her. Two massive, jagged wings erupt from her back with tremendous force, both black as her own flesh with the webbed parts being the color of her blood. However, both had splatters of her blood coating them. You took a step back, eyes going wide, before the two wings fluttered just barely, glinting as a razor would amongst the barely illuminated sky.

From one step, you took another back, and then another, finding yourself almost tripping over your own feet. Your lips opened, parted wide to scream for help, to beg or plead because there was an actual monster in front of you, but her hands smothered your lips before you even realized she had moved, and she must have moved fast, because she was at least five feet away a moment ago. Her eyes stared into yours, and you, despite your best efforts, let out a small squeal of terror. She brings her other hand up to gently run a hand through your hair, wings wrapping slowly around you. You really hadn’t noticed just how huge they were.

“Easy, Summoner,” Her voice was quieter than before, almost soothing in an odd sense. You were completely encased in darkness, grappled in place with no chance of escape by a beast that could easily rend you apart, quite easily, if she took the notion. You let your eyes squeeze shut tightly, flinching away and half expecting her to simply decide you weren’t worth the effort, but that moment never came.

“You asked for a reason to trust me,” She let the words flow before you could follow them, her wings unfolding around you, the most vague hint of light starting to filter in from the front of the alleyway. As soon as you noticed it, she took a step back away from it, her wings folding upon her back as she took a knee in front of you. “Give me a task, and I will obey.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but found the experience to be far too much. She wanted a command, and you had to think of one on the spot, a task fit for someone who could... The thought made you almost sick to your stomach, before you opened your mouth again. First thing that came to your head, you thought, just say the first thing that-

“Do a backflip.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. She looked unamused, but stifled a small laugh at the command. She stood, letting her wings unfold yet again, though they idled behind her. At a glance, you noticed a small few tears in them.

“You hold, at your disposal,” She started, and her voice was no longer calm, “The will of one of the most powerful vampires in all of Derse. At your whim, I could take over entire planes, eradicate entire species,” You really weren’t sure if she was joking. “I am the Coven Mother of the most efficient and ruthless bunch of Vampires to have ever graced any plane of existence.”

“She who descends from the Vampire Mother, the Queen of all of us, the Scourge of Night,” She was really putting on the theatrics here, a certain flair that caused you to almost shiver. “At least the third most powerful vampire to exist, Miss Maryam of whom legends were written of her deeds and accomplishments.”

She let her eyes lock onto yours, and if looks could kill, you’d have been dead ten minutes ago. She frowned, wide and showing those horrid rows of razors that she called teeth. Your legs almost buckled beneath yourself, knees wobbling ever so slightly in anticipation and sheer, utter fear. She slowly made her way over to you once more, your heads almost bumping against each other. You sat in silence for far too long.

“And you want me to do a backflip.”

You opened your mouth, as if to make some excuse that would calm her, to say anything that would have changed the fact that you just made a huge ass out of yourself in front of someone who, apparently, was more important than you ever thought. On a side note, Vampires were also demons, so that was kind of a cool fact, you guessed.

“It was the first thing I could think of,” You start, voice creaking and desperate, and really you just wanted to leave so you could go home and never think of this again. “Er, I- I apologize, Miss Maryam?” You try to smile, try to force yourself to seem genuine, but it was probably extremely apparent that you were only saying it to save your own hide, and desperately hoping that it worked out in the end. “Besides! I don’t have much use of a demon, and I’m not... Not fancy to taking over the world or even a city, or anything. What could, er... How about you suggest something?”

A hand raises up to her chin, one of her talons delicately tapping against her it. For a moment, she seemed almost elegant, like a dancer or someone of whom should be treated delicately. It occurs to you that given her apparent status, you may very well be standing in the presence of some kind of messed up royalty, of someone who is much, much more significant than you. It only adds to the unease you feel.

“In the Coven, my role is that of a watcher, or a protector. We all protect one another, but I more than any of the others, aside from, perhaps, my dearest Porrim.” Her lips curl from a smirk to something of a concerned frown, almost genuine in a way. “Do you have someone of whom you wish to make sure they are alright? I hope I have proven my good intent, and that I do not wish harm upon any of you. I am merely indebted to the one who brought me here in the first place.”

You let your mind wander for a moment, thinking of the potential people. True, she seemed a bit abrasive, but honestly, it really seemed that she wanted to help. You had always heard of demons in religion to be horrible, terrible creatures that wanted only to cause mayhem and grief, but one had appeared before you, had every reason and freedom to harm you, but here she stood, wanting to help. You could send her to Roxy, but that seemed... A very bad idea. Dave was probably fine on his own, and Dirk... You shook your head thinking about it, as you really weren’t sure you wanted to know what happened with him, at least not yet.

“I’ve got someone in mind, Miss Maryam, but before I tell you, may I ask you a question?” You try to sound as polite and sure of yourself as possible, but your voice once more comes out in a small squeak, cracking with every word. You were starting to realize just how cold it was, again. You pressed your tongue to your lips for a moment, not quite waiting for an answer that she wasn’t going to give.

“You said I summoned you, and I recognize that it’s probably because of the events at the library, with the spike, and...” You coughed a bit into your hand, glancing to one side to try and avoid eye contact, finding only the side of a wall to accompany you. “Who set all that up? It was in Rose’s basement, which had to be activated by some weird... Mechanical device or something. Dave made it work.”

She raises her eyebrows, or at least you assumed she did, her pitch black skin making it hard to actually see them. A coy smile formed upon her lips, both of her eyes shutting for a moment too long, causing an awkward silence. The sound of the streets starting to spring to life caused her to let her eyes open again, before those same noises ceased, if only for another singular moment.

“Let me tell you something, English.” Her wings ripped back down, the sound of sinew snapping and flesh ripping filling the air for a moment more, though she seemed overall unphased by the ordeal. “You are poisoned, and you have been ever since you summoned me. That spike that impaled your hand was coated in the blood of the Scourge but as to how the original person had the source to do so is beyond me.” Your head had already started spinning. She hadn’t lied to you yet, and truly had no other reason to do so.

“Mortals can not survive with our blood in their veins, not without special assistance. She glanced behind her, as if she half expected someone to be there, to scold her or assault her at any moment. When she looked back, she almost seemed human for a moment, naive, scared, worried. “You will need more blood. Much more. The ways around dying a slow, agonizing death due to this toxin are scarce, known to only a few, but you are lucky.” She grins, as she had a tendency to do, wide enough to show off her teeth once more. “I am one of the few.”

Your knees almost gave out from underneath you, any words you had lost in your pitiful attempts to recollect them. You must have managed to sputter out something, though your ears were burning and your face was most definitely following suit as you choked syllables and words that meant nothing to you. Jade eyes met emerald eyes, and for a moment, she seemed almost to care, to want to wrap her arms about you and shelter you from the world.

“You cover yourself in the blood of demons, but in the process, will become something more. Ascended, perhaps, is the word you could use.” A finger presses idly against her lips as she pauses, and you listen to every word as if it were the last you would hear. “No specific patterns, but the blood itself will fill your body with its own designs, the machinations of the demons that it came from. It will make you powerful, filled with the essence and power of the legions you must slay in order to combat your own death.” That smile could have made anyone stop breathing, your own breath waiting upon your tongue. “Death comes for us all, English, but there are not enough demons in this plane to save you. Not yet.”

You dropped to your knees. That was it, then, all the flare and mystery and intrigue about the Vampire and she would not, or could not, save you. You were doomed to die slowly, from something that someone else had planted. A million thoughts swirled around in your head, jumping off of one another and colliding into others, most of them completely irrational.

“John,” You barely choke his name out. “John Egbert, my cousin. He’s the one I want you to watch.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, hands coming to wrap about a torso that could not feel, that had long since become numb either from the cold or from your imminent demise. “You owe me nothing, aside from the summoning, but...” Your mind wandered back to Roxy, back to the Striders, back to everyone who had apparently abandoned you since the ordeal began.

“Please make sure he’s alright for me.”

She hums, an odd tune mixed with the slow sounds of her footsteps coming upon you. You were starting to be bathed in light, but she was completely submerged in the shadows still. She extended a hand outwards to you, stopping just short of the sunlight that had formed above the alleyway, that now started to shine bright despite the grim circumstances.

“David Strider is the one you’re after, English. There is no coincidence that he is directly related with everything that has gone wrong in your recent times.” She let her arms fall to either side, coming back to a stand, completely towering over you; especially now that you were on the ground. You had to crane your head extremely high to even get a glance at her. “Rest assured, more summonings are in process. There are at least..” She sniffs the air slightly, eyes closing in thought, “Six, counting me, right now. You will need the blood of many more, but each will prolong your life, add to your knowledge, increase your power.”

She turned, taking a step away, before stopping short. She cast a glance behind you, lips pulling down into a wide frown. She kneeled beside of you yet again, holding a hand out to your face, gently cupping your cheek as it bathed her in the sunlight. The smell of something burning, something horrid and grotesque filled your nostrils near instantly, and as you pulled your eyes downwards, your suspicions were confirmed. Her hand was almost bubbling as it roiled and oozed in the light, causing slow spatters of blood to swim around your cheek, dancing against your form. After a moment, she stood, pulling her hand which had been charred and blackened to her side.

There was an odd sensation, a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, a horrid and writhing sensation that emanated from the cheek she had only a moment prior. You coughed, grasping at your chest as a sudden pain overtook you, leaving you lying on the floor, almost willing to scream in pain, preserving yourself only because of Kanaya. You forced a glance upwards, barely managing a single eye open.

She glanced back, offering a warm smile, though her body seemed to almost be fading back into the shadows, vanishing as if she were never there. Her lips moved, and though you could barely hear them, barely following exactly what it was that she was saying as she merely vanished into the darkness, when she left, you knew without a doubt what she had said.

“The first one is free, English. Beware of Strider, for though he will bring your salvation by allowing you to harvest more blood, so too will be the downfall of the entire world.”

* * *

**== > Be the Jade Deceiver**

This was disappointingly easy. Your metaphysical form glided through the everyday shadows as people started to fill the streets, completely unaware of the impending darkness that would descend upon them. Long since have you wanted to be back in the mortal plane, to battle wits and will with those around you, yet the challenges already presented to you were almost far too easily surpassed. English had been merely a speed bump in your path, and he had even so graciously gifted your next target. His name was enough, alongside of a memory or two from English, and you were whisked upon your way on the trails of shadows. You were near starving, deciding that this one was likely not worth the risk.

The house was simple enough to get to. The cruel sun would have utterly incapacitated you, though your wide array of magicks had long since granted you the powers necessary to avoid it altogether. You missed Derse, missed the shroud of night that had taken it, missed icy spires that formed at the top with the horrid lava sea that surrounded it, but you had more pressing matters to attend to. The Coven could last a while without you, though you hated the fact that Porrim would likely be left in charge. She may have been a vampire more ancient than you, but she acted much more akin to a Succubus, and it was disgusting.

The spell wore off just as you entered into the building, behind a door that had been closed not for long, in front of a bed that had been slept in for even less time. A trail of smoke flitted from your form as your entire body slowly manifested, a process taking only a few moments, though it certainly took its toll on you. You closed your eyes, inhaling the aromas of the new room, of the person you were hunting. The jagged rows of daggers that you called teeth were already filling out, your form becoming much more monstrous on a whim. Far too close to starving, you thought, far, far too close. To any mortal, you wouldn’t have even seemed a vampire, perhaps closer to an abomination, but you cared not.

You had grown a few inches, your form becoming wider and ugly, but it was necessary for the most efficient kill. You crouched low, your wings which you had put on display earlier folding outwards with ease, barely a crackling of flesh this time. You were almost on all fours, positioned towards the door as footsteps echoed through the house. He would have to come in here, soon. You would be waiting for him.

* * *

**== > Be the Gentle Breeze**

Something had caused you to stir in the middle of the night. Well, it was more like the early morning, but it might as well have been the middle of the night with how tired you were. You had just started a new job, had just worked a full shift at this new job, and to top things off, had not been sleeping well the past few nights. Generally, you felt fine, with life going pretty swell and all your friends making it by as well. However, you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to pretty much anybody at all aside from Dave, and that was only for a few minutes. You just assumed they were busy, though, because a lot of the time they really were just busy. You always made time for them, though, because you guess you are kind of like an anchor to all of them, someone to help all your friends stay that way.

A shiver went down your spine. Maybe because you just weren’t used to your new place yet, but you could swear this house was haunted sometimes. You swear you’ve heard footsteps, voices calling out to you, and many manner of things that could otherwise be a horrid phantom in the night. It felt as though spectres wandered throughout your house nightly, but you had always chalked it up to childish fears and didn’t quite bother yourself with them. Of course, there was many a night where you tiptoed to bed, throwing yourself under the blanket as soon as you could, but that couldn’t be helped.

This time, however, felt different. You made your way through the house quickly, grabbing the glass of water that you always grabbed whenever you awoke in the night, which was becoming very frequent. You stopped short as a small breeze ebbed by you, causing the door to your bedroom to creak just slightly, though it was all but pulled shut. You shivered, glancing around, trying to find the source, but merely assumed it was your air conditioner or something. You had a really bad habit of leaving it on when you really didn’t need it.

One step slowly after another, alert ears perking at any noise at all in the early morning. There were no birds, aside from a few crows screeching in the distance; no insects, no people, no cars.. Merely silence, but you suppose on a Winter’s morning, perhaps people had more important things to do. The sun had only just barely started to appear, after all, but a lot of people had jobs and such. Perhaps your home was merely much more soundproof than you had initially thought, and you weren’t quite sure if that was a good thing.

The floor didn’t creak, nor did every little noise cause a rattling through the house, but you truly wish it did. It would have made this insane fear, this asinine terror that crept through you whenever you walked your home alone much more easy to bear, and you weren’t really sure why you felt this way in the first place. Normally it was just fear of the dark, of the shadows that hid things from view, of things that could be stalking in the night, but this was more advanced. This wasn’t fear, but actual terror.

You took slow, deep breaths, over and over to convince yourself that there was nothing to be afraid of. It felt silly, having to resort to childish tactics to not lose yourself to fear even as light started to fill itself in your home, but you couldn’t deny that it worked at least most of the time. Your door was only a few short footsteps away, though as your hand reached for it, there was a slow crackling noise from behind. You pause, eyes squinting and head tilting in thought for a moment. Your hand grasped the knob, other latching tightly onto your glass, half supposing to use it as a weapon. The knob slowly turned one way, though the door was already open, and slowly started to creak ajar.

There was nothing on the other side, at least nothing out of the ordinary. You took a few cautionary steps in, glancing to either side before completely circling around. The smell of smoke was heavy in your room, causing you to raise your empty hand to act as a mask to cover your face. Judging from the sound and the smoke, something had probably just fried itself, and that really wasn’t a good sign. You set your glass down, stopping short as another crackling noise came from just behind you.

Slowly, you twisted your body around, your eyes slowly finding the form of a massive beast, at least seven feet tall with eyes that stared into your very soul, teeth that could have been blades that were glistening with something green, and claws that extended at least six inches outwards. You took a step back, dropping your glass onto the ground  and sending water and shards all over, before you opened your mouth to scream.

Before you could get the words out, the beast was upon you, its massive bulk smashing into your stomach and sending you crashing to the ground. You struggle, a desperate array of twisting and turning, even before you are fully conscious of your own actions. Its mouth opens, features almost human in nature despite the obviously beastly appendages and monstrous visage. It is only after a moment that you notice its wings, tattered and ripped with black spikes that protrude out of the very top and bottom tips. They wrap around you, forcing you closer to the beast’s maw, closer to the jagged teeth which smelled of blood and smoke.

It could have easily ripped your head off if it tried. It’s mouth didn’t unhinge, didn’t lift any wider than something that would befit a creature of its size, but its sheer strength forced you to remain prone, helpless, as it watched your movements for a moment. It didn’t take long before you quickly lost your strength, body becoming shaken and frail and weak, almost desperate, before it plunged its rows of razor sharp teeth into your throat.

You struggled, at first, the sheer pain causing your vigor to renew as you forced yourself upwards, hands pulling to grasp at whatever they could. You barely shifted the creature, moving it only just slightly before it applied more of its gargantuan bulk upon your flesh, teeth sinking ever deeper into your body. You opened your mouth to scream, to yell for help, to say anything at all, but all that left your mouth was a pitiful echo, barely a whisper of defiance as the last of your strength drained out of your body. When you try to shift slightly, you’re vaguely aware of a wet _squelch_ from underneath your body, only slightly conscious of the bright red pool that had started to form beneath you. Your lips mouthed words, throat begged for air as your vision started to turn red, before becoming clouded with shadows. The last words you manage to sputter out is a desperate whisper for help, though the beast slows itself as you do so, one massive claw gently raking across your hair.

“Sleep now, child,” The voice was calm and light, extremely unbefitting something as horrid and ugly as what was on top of you. “When you awake, you will heed my call.” It had pushed its lips against your ear, tongue flicking as it spoke and spatters of warm blood splashed across your face. “He is coming soon, her brother. You are not to kill him, but you will be hungry. Restrain yourself.”

You start to scream, mouth opening wide in horror as the beast lifts itself, shifting to the other side of your throat, and you black out.

* * *

 It takes a moment to clear your head. Your eyes open to your room, bright blue and almost whimsically painted and decorated. Your curtains were drawn back tight, so that no light made its way in, which you considered to be especially odd since you always loved letting the sun wake you up. You pulled yourself up and off the floor, a hand coming to rub the sleep out of your eyes. What had happened that made you fall asleep on the floor, of all places?

You shift slightly, your foot pressing into the ground to find something warm and wet. You cast a slow glance down, finding a horrid, massive pool of blood at your feet. You opened your lips to scream, panic overtaking you for only a moment before you fell backwards. Your teeth grit, though you quickly found your mouth filling with blood as they dug deep into your gums. You moved a hand up, spitting out orbs of blood that fell to the puddle below. You shove a finger or two into your mouth, pressing them against your teeth just to find them jagged and razor sharp, slicing deep into your hand..

You fall onto your back, breathing heavily just to find that the air you were intaking wasn’t refreshing you, wasn’t helping to calm you down. A hand pressed against your chest, and for a moment you stopped breathing. That moment turned to seconds, which turned into a full minute, your eyes wide in fear. You stood, body shaking, as you cast a glance into the mirror beside of you, only to find horrible, too-bright blue eyes staring back at you. You opened your mouth, as did your reflection, properly seeing your massive teeth for the first time.

You took a step back, finding yourself once more upon the ground before you knew it. Your hands clutched tightly at your head, palms blocking your eyes to prevent yourself from seeing the horror you had turned into. You felt as if you could cry, but found that even if you tried, you couldn’t. You inhaled sharply, once more finding that it didn’t change a single thing. It didn’t even seem to cause your chest to rise nor fall when you exhaled.

Arms fall from your head to your torso, wrapping slowly around your chest as you pulled yourself back into a corner. This was just a nightmare, it had to be. You would sit here cowering for a moment, and the next time you’d open your eyes, you’d be awake in bed. You wouldn’t have been killed by a monster, you wouldn’t have woken up as a monster yourself, and you definitely wouldn’t have this hunger, a starving pain to...

You pull your arms around you more tightly, pulling knees up to your torso as you sat there in silence for a long, long while. You opened your eyes once, twice during what seemed like hours, expecting every time for all this to not be real, some cruel trick played on you by your own brain, but that moment never came.

A voice called out from your front door, a very familiar voice that belonged to someone you knew, but who was it? You knew his name, his face, everything about him, but the memories refused to surface, impossible to reclaim yet on the verge of being just in your grasp, In reply, you made a short noise, throaty and pathetic. You weren’t aware of much anymore, but the bright red eyes of his matched the color in his veins, the color you were looking for.

You were starving.

* * *

**== > Be the Second Gifted**

It took you much, much longer to get to John’s house than you expected. Either from your wounds or simply from lack of memory, by the time you arrived, the sun had already risen into the sky, though the chill of night yet lingered. It wasn’t an extraordinarily nice house, but it was impressive nonetheless, especially since John had bought it by himself. He was pretty good in terms of budgeting and saving, but you never really knew exactly how true that was. A single story in a somewhat remote area that you had to follow a dirt road for a few minutes, painted blinding white with large windows designed to let natural light in.

You stepped upon a cobblestone path that lead to the door, each footstep you took causing waves of pain to shoot through your body. The lawn was well kept, and it made you question if he had only just bought the place or if he was actually taking care of this on his own. All in all, you would have been quite impressed under any other circumstance, but on this occasion, you were merely worried. He had just bought this place, and what if you got it wrong?

Thinking about it, he never actually told you where he lived, but you knew for certain this was his house. You grit your teeth, mind wandering back to the scene that had played out only a few hours prior. Weirder things had happened today, and perhaps this was merely the world's way of saying that your luck was changing. The thought forced a small smirk upon your lips, and with the sun starting to shine bright against the small amount of snowfall that had collected and stayed upon the ground, you were really starting to wish you hadn’t broken your shades.

The walk to the front door was relatively short, given where you had just come from. It looked almost generic, in a sense, the exact kind of home that you’d expect Egbert to have actually taken up residence in. Open spaces, bright colors, a lot of light - It’s everything that he ever really liked all packaged into one, and you can’t help but be genuinely happy for the guy. You just hope that you walking into his house, miles away from where you got attacked, covered in blood and limping doesn’t ruin that for him. It probably will. That makes you genuinely upset.

You slowly raise your fist to the door, eyeing it as if it were the biggest challenge of your life. Heartbeat quickened, inhalations coming quickly, your mind racing as it always did when you were around John. He might not even be in there, the thought quickly passes your mind, maybe off somewhere doing whatever normal people did, and you let your fist lower from the door for just a second. You glance off to the side once more, wide frown on your face, before you force your fist to make contact with his door, giving it a few gentle rasps with your knuckles.

The door creaks slightly open, an odd noise not befitting how new and polished the rest of the house was. You cleared your throat, taking a slow step in, finding the inside somehow colder than the out, your arms slowly wrapping around your torso. You inhaled sharply, an eerie feeling of loneliness creeping over your mind, and for a moment considered that maybe John had hurt himself somehow.

“John,” You tried to call out, though your voice barely cracked more than a whisper. You cleared your throat, as quietly as you could manage, before trying yet again, though this time, nothing at all came out. You brought your hands up to gently pat against your cheeks, closing your eyes as you tried to run some heat through your veins. This was dumb, you could do this, it would be easy.

“John!” You managed to yell it this time, though your voice cracked the entire way, and you started to hope he wasn’t here, even if you did hobble yourself all this way. You might die from embarrassment instead of these bloody wounds. You take another few steps into the house, finding the first room to be wide open and extremely fitting for someone of his tastes. Of course, light blue walls with darker blue furniture and a bunch of knick-knacks just laying around; his ‘hobbies’, you were sure.

You glanced around for a moment more, half expecting someone to jump out from behind the couch and yell to scare you. Crimson eyes made their way from one side of the room to the other, before you half turned around to push the door to a close. The thought that you could have the wrong house ebbed in your thoughts for only a moment, though something shut it out. This was the right house, and you knew it was. You didn’t know how, but you knew.

“Egbert!” You called again, your voice actually managing to stay stable despite everything. There was a small sound from a door to your right, something shuffling and moving around, and worry fills you. It could have just been John waking up, or it could have been something, anything else. You placed a hand over your mouth, taking a few cautionary steps towards it. A single glance was cast around what else you could see of his home, taking in the place for a moment. You shook your head, finding your priorities in odd places, before you slowly raise your hand to grasp at the door knob.

It was, like the front door, obviously open, barely an inch or two open so that you could just barely peek in. There was a bed, a dresser... And that was it. You suddenly found yourself aware that you were basically perving on your best friend. You shook your head, one hand coming up to your eyes, really wishing you had your glasses and that they didn’t break. You’d have to invest in a spare pair, and soon.

“John,” You said, almost a whisper yet again despite yourself. You pressed your tongue against chapped lips, just barely pushing your weight upon the door. “Hey, I’m coming in, so if you’re not decent, I need you to tell me before I see your ass or something, alright?” You pull your free hand back up, running it against your hair to slick it back, though it really doesn’t do much.

“Last chance, man.”

You pressed the door only just slightly more, sucking in a jagged breath of air before you finally gave it a final shove. You glanced to the side, trying to peek farther into the bedroom, but to no avail. It was really fucking dark in there.

“And, uh, if you’re a burglar or something, I’ve got a gun.” You didn’t. “So don’t fuck around with me, ‘cause I know how to use this thing.” You really, really didn’t. You hesitated for only a single second more, before finally throwing the door open wide.

The door hadn’t been open for long before you found yourself upon the ground. John, or something that really, really resembled John, had crashed into you. He stood above you, rows of blades filling his mouth, with bright blue eyes that turned into black slits at the center. His skin had turned pale, almost gray, and he watched your movements not as the John you had been friends with since you were children, but eager and ready, like an animal toying with its next meal.

You shift to one side, finding a jagged pain once more running from your leg and into your veins. You clenched your fist tightly, throwing it upwards and into your best friend who was starting to descend down upon you. It smashed into his chest, though it didn’t slow him as his body fell on top of yours. Once more, your collided into him, but it only served to make him bring his fingers down into your shoulders. There was a prick of pain, and then suddenly, a damp sensation spreading across them.

You yell out, something between his name and ‘stop’, but he only drags his body over onto yours. His mouth opens to innumerable daggers, all of which sought to come down upon you, though you could just barely find the strength in your right arm to hold him off. When you tried to move your left arm, for some reason, you found you couldn’t, and you were too horrified, far too terrified of the implication to even look.

He rolled to the left, which caused you to go right, then one way and the other. The struggle continued, your fingers grasping around his neck and quickly losing grip as he managed ever closer to your neck, your foreheads almost touching for just a few seconds. You yelled, using the last of your strength to shove upwards, to try and climb to your feet and run, to sprint and never look back, but he overpowered you by far. The last of your strength gone, your arm collapses upon your torso in between you and him, and his teeth finally sink downwards and into your throat.

You had only a fraction of a second to react, to shift yourself sideways to avoid him actually ripping the front of your throat out, but he still managed to tear into the side of your neck. Your eyes shut as you opened your mouth to scream in pain, but found nothing coming out. You gripped against his arm tightly, finding the warmth of your own body slowly fading into his icy coldness, your strength starting to dissipate quickly as his teeth dug deeply into you.

He pulled himself back, head jerking backwards at a breakneck speed and the horrid sound of _something_ ripping made your stomach flip and turn, though you could probably associate that with a few other things. He pulled off of you, a horrid chunk of bloody, dripping flesh hanging low upon his mouth before it dropped onto the floor beside of him. You opened your lips to speak, tried to will your body to move, but found yourself unable. Nothing but empty air, and the taste of iron on your tongue.

Once more, he lunged down upon you, grasping at the now gaping wound he had just created. You could feel the warm, sticky blood flowing freely before his mouth latched onto the wound once more, his teeth forcing it wider open, tongue flicking into the wound as far as it would go. One of his hands had made its way to your neck, talons starting to dig into your throat to keep you held down, and you definitely couldn’t fight it.

Resigned to your fate, you merely lay there, eyes coming to a close as you lay in a pool of your own blood for the second time today. Jagged, forced breaths barely kept as a reminder that you were alive, though the one on top of you seemed to slow down as well, finding him almost trembling as his arms grasped not onto you, but instead around you. His lips pulled from your neck, slowly nuzzling into your ear as your eyes opened just barely.

You lay there with him upon you for a long, long while. He shivered into your body, and despite the warm puddle you were currently laying in, all the heat hadleft your body ages ago. His fingers pressed into the back of your neck, holding your head up against his neck, and try as you might, you lack the energy to help him at all. Slow breaths escape you, barely able to concentrate on the person on top of you.

“I’m sorry,” His voice came, and it was the old Egbert you knew, but there was something colder behind the words. He repeated the phrase once, twice, too many times to count as he lay weakly upon you, and if you didn’t know any better, it almost seemed as if he were crying. Your functioning arm wrapped about his waist, your eyes shutting as you started to fade out into unconsciousness, or perhaps death. You pressed your lips together, and before you completely passed out, let only a few words pass by their bloodstained visage.

“I forgive you.”


	8. Ultionem Incitatio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History is written by the victors. Dirk Strider refuses to lie down and die.

**== > Be the Newly Testified**

Many things are understood by those of demonic ilk. The swirling, writhing black that inhabits humanity’s soul is not but a curse. Though, to some, this same void of emotion and guilt could be grasped within one’s hand as a trophy. There are those who would fear such a thing, fear to fall to corruption and deceit and greed, lest they end up a slave to their own power. The Green Sun that holds perpetually in the skies of Derse burns bright, brighter even than the darkest night could ever hope to shroud, but on Prospit? Prospit looked down upon the same Star, the same that Dersites were forced to look up at.

To you, this did not seem a big deal. In your mind, even Dragons would have had to look up to the sun. The Prospitans had long since vanished, a relic of an ancient war that raged for aeons, before mortality had even taken a foothold and long after their souls started flooding into the two realms. They faltered, and vanished, one by one by one, until even the one who was above them all ceased to exist. There were no claims of whom had taken the final blow, if the Creator had merely abandoned his people to ruin, but such claims would have been laughable regardless.

You sat upon the precipice of tomorrow, legs dangling over the edge into an Oblivion that ceased to exist miles below yourself, of a million fiery voices churning up from nothingness as if to force their way into your very being. The stench of lavender propelled you forwards, though a few other scents had started to fill the air. How many, how many? ...Lavender, smoke, gears grinding and forcing against each other when they couldn’t possibly... You growled at the last scent, finding yourself stopping in the midst of nowhere. Who else?

The smell of a comforting fire, smoke, lavender, gears grinding... There were more, you could smell them, but it was as if a clamp had been placed upon your nostrils, and flare as they might, it could not pick them up. As if a barrier had enacted itself in front of you, and as your eyes darted from side to side, glaring and begging to find the location of them, you could practically see them. You knew where they were, where those who had started this mayhem were located, and you were going to stop it.

The ridges of your heels dug into soft dirt, letting you sprint off from a standstill fairly easily. The small nubs that had formed upon your forehead had elongated, becoming arches that came straight back and pulled your hair back with them. Though they fell only to the midpoint of your head, they were heavy, remarkably so, impeding your movement for only a few seconds before you grew used to them. Once plain features had become amazingly sharp, and though you only got a few passing glances within puddles, you had found yourself to become much easier to look at. Where before you could have described yourself as handsome, now there was an uneasy feeling of beauty within your visage. The thought pulled a smirk upon your face, but only for a moment. Only a moment.

The aroma continued getting ever closer. You had long since pinpointed the location of the one who was pulling the strings, as it was the easiest smell to locate, but you used it as a guide nonetheless. Many things could change, as she could move positions, turn and flee, perhaps summon more demons to try and stop your assault. These things did not matter, however, as you had a goal. If there was one thing that people knew about Dirk Strider, it was that he was stubborn. He got the job done, no matter what.

The location was close, now, about a mile if you cut a straight path. Around four minutes if you could time yourself properly, but even that was too slow. Certain demons had wings, and those of your type could develop them given enough time, but you had to work with what you had. Speed, strength, of which were common to those with a blackened soul, but your powers likely would not help you here. You had not practiced them, but knew how to use them as if a second sense had formed in your mind, making the practice as easy and normal as if you had been doing so all your life. Perhaps you had, when you were mortal, and the practices merely carried over in your afterlife.

It was a bit jarring, at first, the things you realized after your had awoken. You knew, first and foremost, who had called you back to the living. The thought that they could do something like that was certainly strange, though you did not completely rule it out immediately. The names of demons who had been in the world for a time, the number of which was staggeringly low despite what you may have expected. The names of those entering into the world anew, who had been within the mortal plane for only a few days. Most odd were two of the names that had penetrated your thoughts, forced themselves to replay over and over in your mind as if there could have been a mistake.

Rose Lalonde. Dave Strider.

Both instilled an odd sensation amongst your body, the first a feeling of despair as she had apparently been on the mortal plane for quite some time. There was an odd flare about her name, forced upon your tongue as a heat ran through your body. Some form of weird, arcane power that caused a shiver to fall down your spine.

The second name...

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about that right now, though it certainly explained how he managed to pull off the ritual. The implication that your brother, a frail and depressed kid who could barely scrape together two pennies, had managed to actively bind himself in a contract of sorts to turn himself into a demon? The corners of your lips tugged more tightly downwards, legs carrying yourself at a faster pace to escape the thoughts. It was inconceivable. The mere thought almost made you laugh, though you found your stomach sick with ill thoughts.

The lavender scent, then, must have been Lalonde. You two were only half related, though you really didn’t care all that much for that side of your ‘family’. Half of them were thieves and the other half were wiccans or pagans or what-the-fuck ever. So this one, at least, made sense. Your teeth grit sharply against one another, slow inhalations forcing down your throat to fill your lungs. An idle motion; the breaths did nothing to ease you.

They would be as Gods, Dave and Rose. The power to pull demons through the planes had not been actively done by humans for ages, let alone people even attempting. They would have disgusting, rotten power at their disposal, enough to lead a crusade against the entire world, though as that thought swirled in your mind, the blood in your veins almost boiled alongside

It would not take more than a handful of beings who were like you to wreak havoc upon the world. As you were now, but a fledgling of Secondborn forced into unlife they would not be prepared. Armies would take a knee before you, entire countries throwing their people’s lives away in vain as you marched forwards. It would take but a fraction of Earth’s armies to do so, and you knew it. Dave and Rose pulled the reins of annihilation, but they would not, could not, dared not assault humanity.

Demons needed something to feed on, after all.

* * *

Rose’s place was not but a glorified warehouse. From your vantage point within the trees, you could just make out a massive square building, towering with at least two floors and concealed with a glamour to make it look much more like a fortress than what it was. There were several purple-robed humans wandering about, performing tasks to actually reinforce the place, or so you expected. It wasn’t quite a castle, but she was definitely doing her damnedest to make it look like one.

You sat in the tree for a long while, scoping out the ‘guards’, if you could even call them that. She had a near endless supply of power, assuming that she could actually pull demons from the other realms, but she wasn’t using it nearly to its potential. The thought enters your mind that she’s a novice with her powers, forcing a grim frown upon your visage. This was going to be a slaughter, more than likely, as she only had two or three other demons on the inside with her.

You let yourself fall, a good twenty or more feet to the ground, landing with a silent grace that was an extraordinarily odd feeling for you. Rolling forwards, you land deftly behind a large bush, fingers slowly grasping on the brambles and branches that jutted out everywhere. It barely had enough foliage left upon it to conceal your form, and you silently cursed the winter’s chill for making this harder than it needed to be.

You waited for a single guard to wander in front of your hiding spot, which took much more time than it should have and you chalked it to the guards not knowing their rotations very well. You made a small rustle of the bush, ducking low and to the side as footsteps grew ever closer to the place you were hiding in. You hesitated for a moment, letting them have just enough time to see you before you were on your feet, one hand grasping their mouth and the other latching onto their wrist as they pulled whatever weapon they had up. At a glance, it was a gun, low caliber, but it would have fucking hurt, regardless.

You brought a foot forwards, crashing into their knee with a sick crunching noise. They screamed into your hand, vaguely feminine as you pulled yourself around them, hand latched upon their mouth to prevent them from calling to help. The gun fell into your hand easily, the guard having apparently lost the will to continue fighting, though your foot crashed into the back of their leg which sent them down to the ground, only furthering the horrendous ripping and snapping noises.

You hold the gun outwards, flipping the safety on before dropping it to the ground, your other hand slowly wrapping about their throat. They sat still for a moment, heart racing and breathing ragged against your hand. They suffered in silence, and you let them, hoped to have given them a moment where they expected to live, to be let go and recover and do whatever they would.

Your hands twisted, rending their neck in an angle that was impossible for the bones to turn. The cracking sound was loud, far too loud than you wanted it to be, but it was swift and efficient. You let their body collapse into a pile on the ground, unmoving aside from an errant twitch as their body gave their last. You grimace, foot gently pressing into the ribs of the corpse. Their robes would be useful, at least.

You cast a slow glance around, half expecting someone to have seen you as you stripped the body and pulled the robes on. They were awful, gaudy and purple with the insides made of velvet that itched far too much. If there was any doubt in your mind that this was Lalonde’s work, it expired completely when you saw the symbol that was embroidered in a brighter purple, almost pink if you looked at it from the right angle.

It was a ‘sun’, with four tendrils of light coming off of the four cardinal directions. Between each was three small triangles, representing the light of the sun, with two smaller ones and a much larger one in the center. The entire thing had an inky blackness that surrounded it, looking as if an artist had simply thrown a paint bucket at it, though it never touched the sun, the blots of black never covering the yellow. The sun, as well, appeared to be ‘dripping’ off of the area it had designated, streaks of yellow staining upon purple and black, looking as if it had been spray painted on.

The symbol, of course, was the symbol of Prospit, but it had been clearly bastardized. The black void that encompassed it alongside of the leaking yellow sun spoke much about Lalonde and her knowledge, and for a moment, you were almost impressed. It was a common symbol during the War, Dersian propaganda, not that it was needed. All of Derse was prepared to fight, flying the flag that Lalonde now wore with such eagerness on her sleeve. You were a bit surprised the other Demons were willing to wear it, though perhaps they weren’t.

You made your way forwards, head down as the velvet hood covered your face, save for a small peek of pale lips. You were sure to let off a bit of demonic flair as a few people cast glances your way, which was enough to send them scurrying away without much effort, since you really didn’t feel like killing anyone else. As far as you knew, they were just dragged into this place without really knowing. Charms were a thing, something that the caste of Demon you became specialized in, though you certainly didn’t understand how to use them.

The warehouse appeared much, much bigger on the inside, more grandiose with the appearance of an actual keep than a mere hunk of metal thrown in the middle of the woods. The hall you had entered into was very dimly lit, candlelight just barely giving off enough light to let you see. You blink, eyes closing for just a moment before a dull orange glow protruded from them, illuminating the immediate area around you. Stone brick that was cold to the touch, with long stretching hallways, lead to what you could only assume to be nowhere. How long had this place been out here? If this was the work of Rose and Rose alone...

You hesitated, purple robe fluttering at the sudden stop. You inhaled, casting a cursory glance around yourself for a moment. The air was cold, which was to be expected, but there was an odd chill that clung to your flesh. If Rose had done this alone, you were completely and utterly outmatched. You were strong, had become much more so in the few hours that you had retaken your body as a vessel, though if she could throw glamours of this size around as if they were nothing...

You cleared your throat, the gruff noise echoing throughout the halls. Footsteps reverberate from one side of the hall, coming slowly towards your position, which is enough to make you move in the other direction. You pull your hood further down your head, to the point where it almost eclipsed your face entirely. Nostrils flared as it took in the disgustingly sweet smell of lavender, letting you navigate through twisting corridors and pointless turns.

Far too long you wandered within the maze of brick, barely a sign or door to truly indicate you were making progress, to show that there was anything in here at all. You considered it to be a trap, for a moment, and with the glamour, it was definitely possible. You pressed a hand against the freezing wall as you walked, trailing elongated nails against the crevices where the chiseled blocks were put into place. The smell never waned, only proving to become stronger and stronger as you progressed. You were getting close, and you could smell it - quite literally.

A door formed before you, bearing the same sigil of the Dersite forces, the one that the robe you had taken proudly displayed as well. Your hand gently ran against it, finding it gently creaking and not locked, which surprised you. It was really a shame, as well, because you really wanted to kick the door open and make an entrance. What use were demonic powers if you didn’t get to abuse them every now and again?

You glanced around, making sure nobody was near. A smirk formed upon your lips, before you turned to face the door once more. You held yourself still for a moment, letting the orange glow pick up to become much brighter, your newfound power starting to flow through your body. Your smirk becomes a full blown smile, before you pull your fist back, finding it covered in a dark orange aura before throwing it forwards. It found the door, smashing directly into the symbol and sending wood chips and splinters everywhere. Dust and debris exploded into the nearby area, slowly clearing as you stayed still, striking a pose with fist forwards, likely quite the spectacle to behold, and feeling like an absolute, utter badass.

Slowly, the dust cleared. Two silhouettes appeared within the smoke before you, one of them with horns and the other without. The smell of lavender and smoke was almost overpowering, almost enough to make you gag with disgust as it filled your nostrils, poisoning your senses and nearly overloading you. It took a moment, but there she was, the one who had caused all of this mess in the first place... Sitting upon the lap of a demon.

It took but a single glance to find that the vampire was a mere moment away from sinking her enormous fangs into the pale flesh of Rose’s throat. You stop and stare, and the both of them stop and stare at you as if they were two lovers who were caught in the act. The thought crosses your mind momentarily that, perhaps, they were. It sends a chill down your spine, before you frown, standing back up into a proper position and taking a few steps into the room.

“Sorry, ladies. Am I interrupting something?” Your words come out cocksure and arrogant, lips pressing together only for a moment after they leave your mouth. You lift both arms, fist colliding into your hand as the orange glow illuminated the two. “I hate to ruin what seems to be a great time, believe me I do, but unfortunately for you, I’m about to fucking destroy you.”

Your eyes lock onto Rose’s for a moment, and already the vampire is pulling Rose off of her, gently placing her upon the throne as if she were a doll that was not to be harmed. It shifted itself about, body already starting to turn monstrous as its true form exerted pressure. She stood at least a foot taller than you, and as her body cracked and muscles snapped, she gained at least six inches. Her teeth, which were once fangs and flattened teeth were now a jagged mismatch of daggers that stuck out in every direction. The sheer power she was exerting listed her as not an ordinary vampire. A Mother, perhaps?

She stood for only a moment, before casting a slow, delicate glance behind her. She tilted her head, as if she were a dog awaiting a command, though halted short as Rose held a hand up. You had already pulled yourself into a fighting stance, fists balled and body slouched lower to the ground than normal. You were definitely not a stranger to fighting, though this was something new, something etched into your mind that had made itself known only recently.

“Strider?” The question came from black lips. Rose’s voice was delicate and light despite echoing about the room and over itself. It almost didn’t sound like English, though it was easy to understand, even as her tongue tripped over itself. “Who... bound you?” The question seemed genuine, causing you to snarl out in only a small response. You knew, and you knew that she very likely knew, given the coy smile that had formed upon her lips.

You open your lips for a moment, half moving to respond, though you decide against it at the last moment. Instead, you merely spit upon the ground in front of you, staring her directly in the eyes. You weren’t going to get a decent sight on Rose, at least not yet. You pulled your visage back to the vampire, a hunched over behemoth of a creature which was waiting for the metaphorical chain to be released. With a snap of Rose’s fingers, it did just that.

She moved quickly, her entire bulk making its way across the room in a single moment. Where you had expected a tackle and moved to the side, she followed suit, a hand that had nails like swords rising up to slash at you. If you had been a single moment slower, it would have carved into your face, though you refused to consider that even an option. You lose your footing for a moment, ducking low as her other claw swings forwards, giving you enough time to ram your shoulder into her torso.

She flinches, only for a second, before her claws fall in on herself. They wrap about you, three or four talons digging into your back as you bring your fist upwards and into her chin. She roars, a primal roar that was more anger than pain, before grasping your flesh with the claws that were in your back. You feel the blood explode from your skin, though where pain should have been, you instead felt numb. Lips open to yell, as your body expected to be convulsed with pain, though nothing came out, even as the vampire sent you flying across the room.

You collided into a column on the wall, blood splattering against bright purple fabric that had been hung as decoration. The orange glow your eyes released dimmed for a moment, barely flickering for the briefest of moments before you catch your bearings. You spit once more, finding blood instead of saliva filling your mouth. You force yourself back to a stand, though no sooner had you managed to your feet did you find your opponent ramming her entire body into yours.

You rolled upon the ground, your claws digging into her shoulders. You were vaguely aware of pooling blood below you, and though you couldn’t see, you were almost entirely sure she had managed to sink her claws deep within your flesh. You hissed beneath your breath, the slightest semblance of pain starting to take your body. She pulled her hands upwards, claws gleaming with your blood.

Just before she could bring them down and into you once more, you throw your arms up with a great deal of effort. Your body follows the motion, managing to push her up and off of you before forcing itself on top of her. Already a fist had been brought down to make contact with the side of her face, crashing into her cheek with a sickening crack.

“Jesus fuck,” You hesitate, for only a moment. “If this is a bad time or something, I can come back.” The words escape your lips before you can contain them, a dry chuckle following suit as you ball your fist for another attack. You bring it down, aiming for the same spot as before, just to find the vampire fading away, slowly dissipating into nothingness. Your fist hits against the floor where she was only a moment ago, smoke billowing all around you. You grit your teeth, before you pull yourself up, fists brought upwards into a fighting position.

It’s quiet for a long moment, the only noise in the entire room is Lalonde’s slow, methodic breathing, as well as a gentle clap as the vampire vanishes. She releases a slow, small giggle, almost childish in nature which causes your head to turn to her direction for a moment. She had retaken her place upon the throne, legs crossed and purple hood pulled down low. Her robe was much more extravagant, trimmed with golden thread along the sleeves and body to fit her form. For just a moment, she looks as if she is truly enjoying herself.

“Kanaya,” Her delicate, black lips barely move at all. “Are you finished?” Her words were not directed at you, but her violet eyes glared straight past your shoulder. She allowed the most gentle of smirks to appear upon her visage, pressing her eyes to become half lidded as if she had become extremely bored all of a sudden. You shift uneasily, turning yourself about as a slight scuff upon the floor catches your attention.

Kanaya’s claw hurdles towards you at impossible speed, and though you’re not quite prepared for it, you still manage to find your way to the side as she slashes across your shirt. The three jagged rips in your shirt give way to only minor scratches, though they’re enough to cause blood to start rising to the surface almost immediately. You scream, not in pain, but in rage, as you catch her downward swing with your own, going upwards, into her chest. She does not, or can not, dodge out of the way as you practically impale her on your fist, sending her stuttering backwards a few steps. Taking the opportunity, you follow up, channeling energy upon your fist as it starts to once more glow a dark orange.

A punch finds its mark upon the same spot, trying to assault areas you had already weakened. The dull orange glow leaves embers and small flames flickering upon her chest as she is knocked backwards, crashing upon the ground a few feet away. Her chest, where you had just hit her, was smoldering and releasing orange smoke, comparable to the black smoke that seemed to follow her around. She lay there, not breathing, though that didn’t prove anything. She didn’t disappear, turn into dust and ash, so she was still alive, her soul still intact.

You stand for a moment, feeling the blood pouring down from your shoulder, starting to stain the front of your shirt as both wounds ran rivers of crimson down your form. Your eyes shut, shades glinting sharply as your newfound, natural glow swarmed around you. Focusing, visualizing the area of your body, the wound that had been inflicted, the wet, warm feeling gradually started to fade, wounds closing though it took quite a bit of effort to cause them to do so. Nothing disturbed you, no words spoken, though Rose had resumed clapping yet again.

Your head tilted in her direction, sunglasses falling to the bridge of your nose so that your orange eyes met her violet ones. A pair of misfits, the two of you were, and for a moment you almost considered that you felt bad for her. A swift glance to the defeated vampire proved that no, you really didn’t. You took a swift step towards her, then slowed yourself down as you realized that she was all talk and no actual fight. She probably kept the vampire around as self defense and nothing else.

“Well, Rose,” The words from your mouth were rough, just above a whisper though they echoed around the room with ease. “Nice minion you’ve got there. Shame I’m going to pluck her soul out in a minute.” She looked less than amused, her hands coming to rest one on top of the other. “You, too, you know. Not sure what a weak soul like yours will actually do, but there’s at least four other demons, not including me. You summon them, too?” You laugh, dry and almost pitiful, in a way.

“Are they all as weak as she was?”

The words no longer left your mouth that you felt a gentle tap upon your shoulder. For only a moment you saw Rose’s face twist in horror, sheer anger that you had practically insulted everything she had worked for, and it brought a smirk to your face. You could feel her power rising, though it would take far, far too long for her to actually reach a level that was dangerous to you. You shift around, expecting to find a cultist holding a gun, or something equally as stupid, but instead find one of the two demons who had killed you only hours ago. You raise your hand to react far, far too slowly after realization sets in.

Terezi’s fist found its way to your face, completely knocking your shades off, sending them skidding across the floor. You tilt your head back, not staggering from the blow just to find the demon battered and bruised, covered in her own teal blood. It almost made you laugh, the fact that her looking like this made it seem as if you were correct the entire time, that Rose could only summon pathetic little creatures.

Your fist meets her before she can throw a second one, completely knocking her down, likely because of her already injured state. She hits the ground in a slump on the floor, hand coming to block her face, to try and prevent you from assaulting her any more. You ball your fist up, orange flames starting to gather as you stared down at her with contempt, watched the pathetic creature cower in fear from your newfound power.

A horrendous blast of icy wind came from behind, causing you to cast only a glance, though you shot your head back a second time once you realized what you were looking at. Rose had come to a stand, though she was floating an inch or two off of her throne, flesh all black with eyes that had become swirling white vortexes. Her clothes had grown tattered from the sheer amount of exertion she had to be putting off to cause you to stop in your tracks like that, a swirling mass of tentacles and tendrils starting to swirl about her person, wrapping about her as well as the surroundings.

It was if all the color had drained from her immediate vicinity, the darkness becoming utterly black, devoid of meaning and emotion. You saw in slow motion, her hair starting to raise on end as power continued swelling, forcing you down to a knee as she moved as if stepping towards you, though she drifted upon the air. She stood no farther than a foot ahead of you, glancing down to you as if you were but a lowborn animal, a peasant that she deemed fit to send to the execution block.

“You come into my domain,” She starts, her voice echoing over itself. Listening more closely, it almost sounds as if her voice is speaking one way, then reversing itself and repeating the same words over themselves backwards. “Murder my followers, assault my demons,” Her eyes started flickering, the white voids filling with black, much like static.

“You threaten me while I am upon my seat of power, and then have the foolishness to demand my soul, the souls of my followers..” She is directly upon you, and as she holds a hand out, you find your throat nearly closing. She lifts upwards, forcing your body up to become level with her arm, floating within the air as she asphyxiated you. One of your hands instinctively grasped for your throat, and even though you no longer had to breathe, she was still applying a horrid amount of pressure.

“You want to see power, Strider? You want to see just how frail and pitiful you are compared to my unending torrent of occultic magic? To witness how countless worlds, countless planes of existence will kneel to my beck and command?” She throws her arm outwards, which in turn sends you launching across the room. You collide against the wall, and you’re sure you left a dent in it as you crash onto the floor. That definitely broke something, and where normally static dulled all your pain, it definitely wasn’t helping in this scenario.

Once more she floated towards you, hand extending outwards as a book slowly starting to form within her hand. A horrid, screaming face was the cover, leather taught and strung around to bind the book in place, keep its pages secured. At a single glance, you knew what you were looking at, eyes going wide as she flipped it open to a random page, finger pressing roughly against a section.

“Mnahn’shogg-nyth, fm’latgh hlirgh li'hee syh’ah!” She slammed the book shut with a single hand, the other aiming towards you as purple tendrils started to wrap about your neck, lifting you upwards yet again. She laughs, horrendous chuckling as you desperately thrash, trying to force your way out of her grasp.

“You should pray to your God, Strider.” The words were hoarse, as if her throat had been sliced open, as if blood were pouring out of her mouth at this very moment. “Pray that he is not listening, for I am coming for him next.” The Necronomicon slowly starts fading, becoming not but dust particles in the wind. A few more tendrils grasped at your arms and legs, pulling you so that you were eye to eye with the beast in front of you.

Her breath was like ice, odorless aside from the faint residue of lavender that stuck to her desperately. Her hand moved upwards, fingers only just pressing against your cheek, running her hand down your face to cup your chin in her hand. She pulled you up, forcing your orange glow to fade upon her, voiding all color the moment it arrived in her immediate vicinity. She was close to you, closer than you would have liked, though you could not struggle, aching body begging to just lie down and hide somewhere.

“I will give you one last chance, Strider.” She let your head fall from her hands, taking a gentle step back though it made no noise. Her serene grace started to fade, hair falling from its raised position, eyes starting to fill once more with violet.

“Join me, and I may yet let you live. Perhaps, in time, you may even rule beside of me.” The way her lips just barely part to speak, the fact that her voice is reverberating within your mind and not around the room sends a horrid chill down your spine. She turned herself around, just barely casting her glance over a shoulder as color almost seemed to start bleeding back into the area around her.

She stopped for a moment far too long, as if she was contemplating snapping your neck, as if her entire form was so dedicated to annihilating your existence that she was about to rescind the offer before giving you even the slightest chance in response. There was only a small flash of purple within her eyes, the rest still filled with the color of void as she twisted, coming to rest once more within her throne. Feathers and bone had cracked off from areas you didn’t even see, though it now scattered the floor all around the immediate vicinity.

“They will speak of the end of the world, of the apocalypse... When they speak of the Deity upon whose wrath they have incited, of whom they forced to raise a hand against their pathetic meekness… When they speak of a wrathful God and her angel, Strider, they will be speaking of us.” She leaned back within her throne, obviously winded as her words came out with half breaths, though the aura that clung to her was still more than twice as bright. The sheer force of her very presence, a force which had seemingly come from nowhere, was overwhelming.  

When you don’t respond for a few moments, the tentacles grasping your body start to loosen, leaving disgusting trails of slime along where they had grasped. They hold firm, but give you just enough room to squirm, to flail ever so slightly in some vain attempt to break out of your new restraints. You find that you’re unable, your strength unwilling to continue, which causes Rose to pull her lips into a wide smirk, one leg crossing over the other.

She wiggles a finger forward, which causes the tentacles to writhe about, slowly pulling you closer to her. After a moment, you find yourself upon your knees, arms forcefully spread to either side with her cold hands upon your chin yet again, forcing your head and hers to be level. Your eyes lock for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, you felt small. As if everything had shrunk before you, she stood a towering behemoth, a being of such torrential, unbridled strength, that even though you have been before her for some time, she seems nigh immortal.

“Just what the fuck did you do to yourself?” The words left your mouth before you could even think of them, and suddenly you find yourself beset by a horrid sense of dread. With a single flick of her hand, the tentacles followed suit, tossing you across the entirety of the room yet again. You hit against the wall, losing your breath and sense of direction as you fell to the floor in a heap of blood and slime. Jagged nails raked across the floor as you tried to force yourself up, head spinning though you could just barely make out the silhouettes of the few figures in the room.

“Not many have this opportunity, Strider, and fewer still can say they squandered it by being such a...” She stopped short, index and middle finger coming to rest against her lips, barely squelching a small giggle. “My, you’ve managed to set off a spark, it seems. A wonder that both Striders can be so inept, to the point where you have no equal, ‘side from yourselves.” Her words flowed as if she had rehearsed them, clear despite the echo from the building, the echo that was her natural voice.

“Crawl away, Strider. I allow you this chance only because you amused me alongside of Kanaya and Terezi.” She casts a glance to the side, towards the crumpled body of Kanaya and the quivering form that was Terezi. She leans back, letting her eyes slowly come to a close, and the mass of writhing, horrid tentacles slowly started to fade away as if they had never existed at all..

You force yourself to your feet, blood dripping from wounds. One of your arms barely moved when you willed it, your good hand grasping at the shoulder only to be met with horrid globs of orange-red blood. You took a step back, pressing against the wall as you sidled alongside of it, using it halfway for support. The door seemed to be miles away, and though you kept your eyes firmly locked onto Rose, she did not move, your movements and the creaking of wood not rousing her even in the slightest.

You make sure to spit a glob of blood on the ground as you leave, only half concerned when the few cultists who do see you apparently pay you no mind. The corpse is on the ground where you left it, and you make certain to throw those disgusting robes off, tearing off only bits of it to bandage the freely bleeding wounds that dart your body. You speak not a single word more, instead finding yourself slowly pushing forwards on the trail that you followed to get here in the first place.

It had started raining some time ago, and though you found it a bit odd given how cold it was, you had more important things on your mind. To start with, how were you going to explain this to your friends and family?

* * *

**== > Be the Teal Contractor**

You awake surrounded by a horrid, inky darkness. There is a stench of power in the air, a horrid essence that fills all of your other senses with the same sense of dread. You inhale through your nose, taking in what little else you can gather from the immediate vicinity. The vampire is beside of you, but she is still asleep. There is, or has been, several humans wandering the very near area for a long time, but they have only recently started coming into this room in particular.

You lie still for a few seconds, before a hand slowly comes to your hoodie’s pocket. Thankfully, it was still tightly upon your body, and even better, Vriska’s soul was still firmly tucked inside, buzzing ever so slightly with a faint, occultic energy. You sigh, deep breaths causing an obvious pain within your chest as your hand falls down to your pants, gently patting the side. That phone you had taken earlier was still there, which you supposed meant that you had used up all of your luck for the time being. You were sure that if Vriska was actually there, she would have definitely enjoyed that line of thought. It was never about skill with her, only luck.

You turn it on, and though you find the battery extremely low, it takes only a bit of force to pull the natural electrical currents from the airspace around you and bend it to your own whim. It wouldn’t be strong enough to keep it on for long, but you really didn’t need to keep it on for that long. Your fingers slowly tapped against the screen, holding it in the air as you idly shuffled about on your back.

Many thoughts were within your mind, the one most prominent the image of your current Master, clad only by writhing tentacles and an obscene, horrific power than permeated through your very being. She was using magic of an ancient, lost being, a creature so vile and disgusting that even most demons would have turned their back upon the mere thought. You inhaled sharply, teal glow starting to once more fill the room as your power grew, filling back into your veins. You had a few decisions to make, though your thoughts lingered to the two boys you had seen from earlier.

If the one who had most recently infiltrated your base of operation could best both Kanaya and yourself, then was this cause truly a lost one? He was strong, perhaps able to best the vampire only because she was still in the latter throes of summoning sickness. But the other Strider had demonstrated power of his own, perhaps one that could grow, very quickly, to heights far above the other. If that were the case, then were you truly on the winning side? If they could recruit individuals with power equal or greater than their own, even lesser, to an extent, then perhaps it was time to switch sides. It would be nothing personal, of course, as it never was; though Vriska would certainly despise the decision. She would get over it, though, because when it came down to it, you were always the one in charge of making decisions.

Your bones creak and crackle as you shift, opening Pesterchum and scrolling through the list of names that you had on this phone. A few of them you didn’t recognize, as you had quite literally taken this from some random asshole on the street, but a few you added yourself, with the help of Rose. timaeusTestified, tectacleTherapist, tipsyGnostalgic... turntechGodhead. Set to away, of course, so he wouldn’t receive your message.

You frown, closing out of the app and heading to a different one. You weren’t familiar with this one, though you assumed that you could figure it out relatively quickly. ‘Snapchat’, or whatever, some kind of picture thing where you could send a person an image of yourself with a caption of anything you wanted to write at all. A smirk crosses your face. You would need to get the perfect picture for this one.

You stick your tongue out, a massive, teal organ that stretched far too long than it should have. You’re sure to angle the camera awkwardly to get at least one of your spectral horns in the photo, as well as let your empty sockets glow bright blue for a few moments. Last, you pull up your fist, holding your middle and pointer finger up into a V shape. You take the picture, finding it adequate for what you were doing, before you quickly write the caption.

H3Y CH3CK YOUR P3ST3RCHUM 1 H4V3 SOM3TH1NG TO S4Y

You send it, then wait for what seems like an eternity. The confines of this room are silent, no noise aside from the vampire beside of you which slowly stirs in her slumber. You glance over her for a few moments, finding her wounds almost entirely patched up, bandaged in the more severe spots with delicate care. Rose probably did those herself, and you assumed you weren’t so lucky. Your bandages were covered in your own blood, littered about haphazardly as if they only sought to make sure you didn’t bleed out in the middle of the night. It was a rather adorable gesture, though, as it was clear they had absolutely no idea how demons worked even in the slightest.

You sit alone, in silence, with only your thoughts and the soft shimmers of consciousness from Kanaya to stir you from your own mind. It takes forever, probably far too long than should normally be expected, but your phone vibrates. There is a notification at the top, indicating that you’ve received a Snapchat back from Dave. Not punctual, but the fact that he was responding was a good enough sign, you guess.

His picture, presumably, is completely black. Very likely he closed off his camera somehow, put his hand over it, or maybe it was just that dark where he was at, but the caption said all you needed. In bright, delicious red text, the words “what the fuck” were written in the darkness, hanging there as if that alone said mountains. You frowned, as that really wasn’t the answer you were hoping for. Maybe he wasn’t impressed by your horns, or something?

A few more moments pass, before your phone vibrates again. Another picture from Dave, though this time it’s actually of something. He’s on a couch, in a house you don’t recognize, and there’s another human beside of him. This one has black hair and extremely pale skin, and the thought crosses your mind that he’s almost as pale as Kanaya. He seems concerned about something, his entire body wrapped eagerly around Dave’s, and that alone is enough to make you laugh, loudly. This caption is much more appropriate.

i cant believe im about to have a conversation with you

You close out of Snapchat and pull Pesterchum up once again. He is still set to away for a few moments before the orange icon switches to a green one, indicating that he’s actually, properly online. That was easy enough, and you really didn’t expect the next conversation to be exactly difficult, either. You did have an amazing way with words, after all.

gallowsCalibrator [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

GC: H3Y COOL K1D  
GC: 1 N33D A F4VOR

TG: first off how am i just now realizing who the fuck you are  
TG: seriously i dont know why i even agreed to this conversation holy fuck  
TG: second consider this  
TG: i would rather gouge my own eyes out with a spoon than have to spend twelve more seconds even considering doing anything for you  
TG: third  
TG: and youre really gonna like this one i think

turntechGodhead blocked gallowsCalibrator [CG]

Well, that was rude beyond all belief.

gallowsCalibrator [CG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

GC: H3Y TH4TS NOT V3RY N1C3 YOU KNOW  
GC: :[ 

TG: alright fuck yeah i shouldve considered that creepy fucking blue-green demon girls are immune to normal laws of online conversation  
TG: yeah no thats totally normal my bad  
TG: what the fuck do you want im a little busy

GC: 1 JUST W4NT3D TO L3T YOU KNOW TH4T 1N 3XCH4NG3 FOR A F4VOR  
GC: 1 WOULD P3RH4PS B3 W1LL1NG TO P4RT W1TH SOM3 1NFORM4T1ON  
GC: 1NFORM4T1ON TH4T YOU WOULD M4YB3 B3 V3RY 1NT3R3ST3D 1N

There’s no response for quite a while, and you pick yourself up off the bed. You let your legs dangle over the side, before pulling yourself to a full standing position. Kanaya stirs, but does not do much other than that, which leaves you free to slowly pace the room back and forth. If you were entirely certain that Dave was going to take your offer, you would have already left Rose’s ‘castle’ by now. The uneasy feeling within the very pit of your stomach is partially the reason why you hadn’t yet.

GC: H3Y 4RE YOU 3V3N L1ST3N1NG TH1S 1S 1MPORT4NT

turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum!

GC: R34LLY  
GC: BLOCK1NG M3 DO3SNT WORK SO YOU JUST 1GNOR3 M3  
GC: TH4TS JUST CH1LD1SH DAVE

turntechGodhead [TG] is no longer an idle chum!

TG: jesus fuck give me like three seconds  
TG: im busy consoling my friend who may or may not be super demonified right now  
TG: like hes all sick with the demon disease and honestly im not quite sure what to do about this  
TG: the witch doctors say to administer 20 ounces of horrifying rituals and blood magic and shit  
TG: cant forget the necessary bed rest and horrifying human flesh soup or what the fuck ever it is you guys eat  
TG: seriously let me rephrase my initial question because apparently it didnt get through  
TG: what the fuck do you want

GC: J3SUS D4V3 1 AM TRY1NG TO B3 C1V1L H3R3  
GC: 1 KNOW WH3R3 YOUR BROTH3R 1S AND YOUR S1ST3R TOO  
GC: 1 AM W1LL1NG TO M4K3 A D34L H3R3  
GC: 1 JUST N33D A FAVOR

TG: alright shit give me a second  
TG: let me get john off of me real quick and we can actually talk  
TG: you got uh  
TG: something you can video me with or whatever  
TG: make this much easier probably

GC: 1F YOU W4NT3D TO S33 M3 4G41N TH4T B4DLY YOU SHOULD H4VE JUST ASK3D  
GC: 1F 1T M4K3S 1T ‘3ASI3R’ WE COULD JUST M33T UP SOM3WH3R3 FOR R34L  
GC: 1T DO3SNT T4K3 M3 V3RY LONG TO G3T 4ROUND YOU KNOW  
GC: BUT S1NC3 1TS TH3 D4Y 1T M1GHT B3 MOR3 R1SKY  
GC: BUT PROBABLY NOT  
GC: :] 

TG: yeah no fuck that  
TG: i dont trust you farther than i could throw you and believe me im a broken husk of a man right now  
TG: my throwing arm isn’t exactly in full form and it wasnt very good to begin with  
TG: give me 30 minutes to calm john down and we can talk  
TG: if you try any more weird demon voodoo and come into my house like youre out of that stupid movie crawling through my phone and shit  
TG: ill do to you what i did the last time 

GC: YOU R34LLY KNOW HOW TO M4K3 A G1RL F33L W3LCOM3 D4VE  
GC: AFT3R 4LL W3V3 B33N THROUGH ON3 WOULD TH1NK W3 WOULD B3 TH3 B3ST OF FR13NDS

TG: fuck you

GC: 1 4M NOT US3D TO HUM4N CUSTOMS BUT 1 4M PR3TTY SUR3 YOU AR3 SUPPOS3D TO BUY M3 D1NN3R F1RST B3FOR3 W3 DO TH4T K1ND OF TH1NG

turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum!

You stare at the glowing screen for a minute longer before turning it off. You push the door open, finding the hallways barely illuminated as they always were. Your bones creak and cry out as you move them, pain hindering your movements though you knew this would not last long. Dave had messed you up fairly badly, carved into you more severely than you could have anticipated, but you were used to much, much worse, especially since you trained with Vriska fairly often.

The halls were scarce and bare, only a few purple banners and candles adorning the walls. Voices echoed throughout, cultists that seemed to be talking of nothing of particular importance merely trying to pass the time. They had grown used to your presence, fearful though they were at the start. You thought it rather humorous, fearing a Contract Demon that was not out for them in particular. They would have been much better off fearing the vampire, which they seemed to adore, or even Vriska who killed haphazardly, for the most part. Instead, they treated you as if you were the horrid monster, and even as you walked the halls and passed by the few who still wandered, they stared upon you as if you were the cause of all the problems in the world.

Not that you minded, no, far from it. They stared at you with wonder and awe, as if you were some great, walking disaster that had formed out of seemingly nothing. You, to them, were a sign that what they were doing was actually accomplishing something, that a being as great as you being on their side meant that they were very clearly on the winning side. It was a rather cute thought, considering you were only a few moments from completely jumping ship and changing sides, if the Striders didn’t just try to kill you on the spot.

You wandered the maze of hallways, taking care to avoid the few areas that you knew Rose was often around. The library, a room with a fireplace fit for reading, the area that had a staircase that went downwards to a small cellar of wine.. These were the obvious places that she would, hopefully, be visiting while trying to relax herself from what had just happened. The door to the exit pushed open easily enough, two cultists who were a bit bulkier than normal standing on either side casting you a glance before going back to doing absolutely fucking nothing.

You almost consider joining them, a few mere moments away from calling this entire plan quits, getting your contract, and fucking off back to Derse until this entire thing blew away. Your teeth grit tightly against one another, fists coming to a clench as you began with a single step, making your way into the forest on a path that barely existed anymore. A few seconds passed, before you find yourself coming to a stop, mind wrapping about just what it was you were about to do.

You didn’t start moving again until your phone vibrated, and though you didn’t check it right away, you knew what it was. The only thing it could have been, realistically, was Dave telling you that he had changed his mind, that him and his brother were both on their way to hunt you down and rip your throat out. You smirked, giving thought to that for a moment, almost exciting at the prospect of getting to properly fight Dave again. If he could maintain the strength he had for longer than a few seconds, or maybe if Dirk were to also wanna go for a couple rounds...

It had really, really been too long since you last got into a proper fight. A few hundred, maybe thousand years sparring with demons was fine fun and all, but the power that came from those two was... Different. While Rose had a very similar power, hers was of dust and void, of nothingness despite her power overflowing to encompass all. The Striders, they seemed very, very different. Their power was of hellfire and a burning lust to push ever forwards, as if not even time standing still could stop the two of them, especially if they were to combine. The thought is almost enough to make you nervous, since if both of them were to meet up with you and decide against, you would be throwing your life away, and it was as simple as that.

Your phone vibrated yet again as you emerged out of the forest, a hand coming to shield you from the sunlight. It wasn’t like it necessarily hurt or anything, but in Derse where everything was illuminated by a permanent green orb in the sky, it took a lot of getting used to this earthen, different sun. You made your way to the top of a nearby cliff, resting yourself within the grass as you pulled your phone out. You angled yourself awkwardly, making sure that nearby trees and foliage blocked the entirety of the sun from your view as you opened Pesterchum yet again.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gallowsCalibrator [CG]

TG: alright so ive got a few minutes  
TG: does your version of pesterchum have a video feature or is it one of the old shitty versions

GC: 1 DONT KNOW 1 L1T3R4LLY GOT TH1S TH1NG Y3ST3RD4Y  
GC: OR W4S 1T A W33K 4GO  
GC: 1V3 LOST TR4CK OF T1M3  
GC: YOUR WORLD 1S V3RY CONFUS1NG 1N TH4T R3G4RD

TG: yeah whatever listen when i start the video call just hit accept  
TG: and try to keep quiet john is asleep alright  
TG: hes kind of had a big day and if you wake him up you can kiss whatever you want from this goodbye  
TG: do you understand me

GC: 1 PROM1S3 1 W1LL NOT W4K3 UP YOUR BOYFR13ND J33Z

TG: again   
TG: i must rebut your serious and well thought out argument consisting of saying the first thing that comes to your mind  
TG: fuck you

GC: 1F YOU S4Y SO D4V3

turntechGodhead [TG] is requesting a video call with gallowsCalibrator [CG]

Dave’s face appeared on your screen after only a moment or two of connecting, and compared to what you must have looked like, he looked horrible. His clothes were half splattered with blood, hair dishevelled with massive bags underneath his eyes. He leaned back against a wall, not on the couch where he had sent that picture originally, and just sighed as your face appeared in the top right corner to indicate that your camera was working. You purposely stuck your tongue out again, to which he only put a hand on his face, slowly running it downwards. It was dark wherever he was, the only light illuminating his face being his phone’s screen.

“Alright, I’m here. What do you want?”


	9. Scientia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With knowledge, comes power, and vice versa. But with knowledge comes the heavy burden of realization, and Dave has the entire world on his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tfw you forget to update for 3 months. Not really, but I've been busy with competition things and stuff regarding my girlfriend (and editor's) health. But hopefully this means semi-regular updates will happen again? At least for a short while before I inevitably disappear off the face of the earth once more.

**== > Be the Second Gifted** 

She is a ghost, a horrid shiver down the spines of mortal men. Her pale flesh deceives her nature, and comparative to you, she is a flawless narrative of purity and all that is good. Her skin is white all over, unflawed and without blemish, breathtakingly bright though you are unable to keep your eyes off her nude form. She has wings, akin to a dove’s though massive and encompassing, wrapping about herself as if it were a cloak of divinity. Her eyes are all black, pools of nothingness that show you the secrets of this world, everything of this world and the next hidden within. Lips are pulled into a velvet smile, soft despite the pale purple covering that almost makes her seem as if she had been long dead. If she were an angel, she bore no halo, gave off no immediate bright glow that would have revealed herself within the void you resided within.

She extended an arm forward, fingers uncurling from a fist that perhaps she had not been making. Fingertips shivered gently, nails elongated but trimmed down into rounded tips. She tilts her head to one side, and her hair which was somehow more blindingly white than her flesh danced to the side in response. She giggled, an echo of a noise that barely made sense in your mind, though was inviting and calm and made you practically melt to her wishes. You extend your own arm, slowly, just to find a dull red glow encompassing your entire form.

You take a step back, eyes springing wide open before you realize exactly what it is that you are seeing. As if you were looking into a mirror or a pool of water, your reflection ripples on the surface of nothingness, blocking out the view of this kindred, divine being. You are an ugly black, flesh the same color as charcoal, with a dim red glow surrounding you in your entirety. Your nails are short and stubby, though end in rough spikes that are jagged, a few of them cut down to sharp points Your hair was blood red, as well, falling messily over your form and covering your eyes, though it stopped you not from seeing everything. Your dull, pink lips open to scream, though you quickly find your teeth little more than drills that stick out in every direction, a horrible maw of impaling spikes.

You were nude as well, somewhat muscular with a stomach and chest that were far too flat to seem truly healthy. Your eyes trail downwards, slowly finding the ‘V’ of your pelvis before landing on blackened, razor-sharp feathers covering your lower body. A jagged, black pair of raven wings protrude from your back, starting at your mid-spine, and as you shift, they follow suit. They are fluid in movement, even unnatural as they seem, with small, jagged spikes at the angled points that make up the outline of them. They, too, are black, though the inside are red, almost akin to a bat’s wings if not for the horrid feathers that forced themselves outwards, pricking and glinting with just how sharp they were.

You falter, breathing slow and mechanical though it almost seems as if it is not a necessity anymore. Mouth opens wide to speak, to beg or ask any myriad of questions, to give yourself any semblance of understanding, though the words that spill out are not at all what you intend to say. They are odd, an awful noise of reverberation and hissing, as if steam were escaping from your lips at high pressure. You force a breath inwards and outwards, finding black smoke and miasma spilling in response, filtering into the void you now resided in.

“Dave,” Her voice was tender and delicate, beautiful in a way that only an angel’s voice could be. A voice you recognized, a voice that you knew you had heard many times before and you would hear many times again. The single word echoed, and though it sounded similar to the words you had said, you almost couldn’t quite make it out. It was as if someone had said the word backwards and forwards at the same time, echoing horrifically into the aether that made you feel almost pitifully alone. Your lips part once more to speak, though the voice again forces you to silence yourself.

“Dave?” It is distinctly a question this time, and her hand extends further out. You slowly inhaled, sharp features the obvious opposite of hers. Where she is beautiful and pristine, you are horrid and dark, a creature of smoke and hatred staring down a being of hope and light. Your fingers push out a bit more, only a few short inches away from touching your fingertips to hers. You look up to her, and she looks to you. Within her eyes, yours are reflected, pure white aside from specks of grey and bits of movement, as if there were small gears constantly rotating within. You smile, and she does, and you reach out to take her hand-

* * *

“Dave!”

The piercing voice draws you out of a daydream, or perhaps an actual dream, a fist coming to gently rub at your eye. You glance down at your phone, finding a disappointingly familiar face staring back up at you. There was light around her now, though not much, and the backdrop was coated almost entirely in a washed-out teal color. She stretches out, almost as if she were bored, and makes a small noise as the bones audibly crackle through your phone’s speakers.

You hesitate for a minute, hand going to push your shades back up on your face just to realize you weren’t even wearing them. You play it cool, bringing that same hand up further to slick through your hair. If she noticed, she doesn’t really seem to respond, before you cough into that hand and lean back into place.

“So, run this by me again, why you want to join me? Because, listen, while maybe I can see the appeal of having a demon on my side, - the winning side, by the way - It seems just a bit weird that you’d only consider joining me after I kicked your ass.”

“Oh, you’re not the reason I’m switching sides,” She says, tongue flicking out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world to understand. Her tongue is a disgusting blue-green tone, and far, far too long to be normal for a human. It’s almost gross, really, but you lean back and cross your free arm across your chest. “I mean, you’re maybe at least partially the reason? But really, I just know when to join the winning side. If you and your brother are both that strong, and only getting stronger?” She whistles.

“My brother is dead, asshole.” You make a sour face, and your thumb hovers slowly over the ‘end call’ button. You really weren’t in the mood for this, given what you had already been through today. Your hand uncurls from your chest, instead raising to rest gently across your face. Concealing yourself from the bright light of your phone feels amazing on your eyes, and if it weren’t for Terezi’s hideous, echoing laughter, you might have been able to fall asleep again.

“Well, ‘asshole’!” She starts, and already you’re regretting having this conversation. “If he’s so dead, then why did he barge into Rose’s place and trash everything?” You lift an eyebrow, and it must have been obvious, because she’s laughing again. “Someone must have brought him back, or at least Rose thought so. She didn’t seem surprised at all, either!” She sniffs the air, then glances around for a moment, lips curling into her signature too-wide smile.

A low growl escaped your throat, inhalations coming rough and slow. “You really know just what to say to rub me the wrong way, you know?” You lean back, hand clasping slowly over your eyes, fingers rubbing against the sensitive bits just around them. “All I know is that you got in contact with me, after I kicked your ass, and now you’re purposely saying stuff to make me mad. Did I forget any detail?” That elicits a far, far too loud laugh from her, making you cringe and glance idly up to the room that John was still asleep in.

“You’re missing a whole lot, probably more than you could even know!” You really wish she wouldn’t yell, really wish that your head wasn’t pounding as you considered the fact that your brother was actually alive and, apparently, throwing down with your sister and a bunch of demons, and how this was related in its entirety. “I could explain it to you, you know.. But I need a favor, first. I still need a place to stay!” She laughs, as if punctuating her deal, and you already feel your stomach churning.

“Right. How about you take it from the top and I decide if I believe you or not? ‘Cause, to be quite honest, I...” You shake your head. You knew she wasn’t lying, and even though you didn’t know how, this feeling in the pit of your gut was rolling and churning. She wasn’t lying. “...You’re not exactly number one on my list of people to trust in the near future. In case you forgot, you tried to murder me.” Your memories retreat back to the subway station for a moment, and though it happened so recently, everything about that experience was fuzzy, as if you had seen it in a dream. Honestly, with how the rest of today was going, you still weren’t entirely sure that it wasn’t just a dream.

She leans forwards, expression turning into an over exaggerated frown as she pushes as close to the camera as possible while actually still being visible. The teal glow is almost overwhelming as she makes a loud whine, which causes you to purposely turn down the volume on your phone. This goes on for a few moments, before she pulls back, stretching her entire body out in a small, quiet fit of laughter.

“Daaaaaave!” She starts, pondering for a moment. “It’s so obvious to me, to Rose, even to your brother. Why is it so hard for you to understand?” She pulls forwards yet again, eyes fluttering as she takes in your blank, deadpan expression. “Somebody, and I’m not naming any names in particular, but somebody made a pact with someone else in exchange for Dirk’s soul back!” She smirks as your expression turns into a frown, then nods as if she understands everything. “See, the thing is though, if you’re in Derse and your soul is transferred out, you become a demon! Because you’ve survived Derse and you’re more powerful for it, or at least that’s what people say!”

You slowly shake your head, unable to really believe nor comprehend exactly what it was that she was telling you. A word that meant nearly nothing to you, ‘Derse’, and yet the mere mention of it drew pictures of a purple world, surrounded by hellfire and magma, a never-ending ocean of fire and heat. Atop the massive continent, an island so large that it could have easily encompassed your planet and more, a castle of ice that would make any who drew near shudder at its sheer and utter size. As well, the memories of a war long past, two forces of Discord and Purity exploding against one another in a horrid display of power and violence, neither of them truly representing good nor evil.

“Why?” The word barely escapes your lips, barely a whisper as you glance back down to your phone. Terezi had gotten far, far too close, all that was visible was her socketless eye as she stared directly into the camera. You frown, then release a slow, desperate sigh. “Why do I know these things?” It wasn’t even really directed towards the other, though if you were to ask anyone at all, it would probably be the person who would very likely have the answer. She pulled back, smiling wide as if she had just heard a secret she wasn’t meant to.

“Because, dumbass.” The word was mocking, probably her going back to the very start of this conversation. You groaned, and she laughed again, as she always, always did whenever she found anything even remotely amusing. “I don’t know how it happened, because you don’t smell like a demon, but you definitely _are_ a demon. I mean, you have the aura like one, and I can smell it on you, but it’s not you at the same time. It doesn’t make any sense, but a lot of this stuff never really does, I guess.”

“A demon.” It wasn’t even a question, moreso just a statement of how little you could actually believe of this entire situation. You scoffed, a bare laugh that echoed throughout the room you had holed yourself into. “Next you’re going to tell me that Angels and God is real and that because of this shit I’m not allowed into Heaven anymore.” You smirked wide, though it slowly fell from your face as Terezi’s expression seemed to indicate that you were almost exactly correct about that.

“Well, maybe not exactly like that.” She glances off into the light that was starting to encompass the area behind her, golden hues mixing rather well with the teal shimmer that she emitted naturally. As if on queue, she tugged the hood of her hoodie over her head, and it really just struck you that she almost looked like a normal person. She gave a small nod, free hand slowly running against what little hair was visible afterwards.

“Okay, so this is going to take a little bit to explain, I think.” She nods, offering you a moment to interrupt, or to say something before she began, though you merely waited for her to continue. “So, Heaven and Hell, that’s what you guys call it, right? Well, you’re wrong. Those names are stupid, and if I were the one who came up with them, I would feel ashamed. Ashamed, Dave!” She laughed, and you groaned, hoping that this wasn’t going to take nearly as long as you were expecting it to. A small nod and she continued on, slowly starting to pull both herself and you into what seemed like a story out of a fairytale.

“Prospit and Derse, that’s what we called it before you guys butchered their names. They lived above, a planet floating high in our skies that rotated betwixt the Green Sun, though never falling below. We, Derse, sat far, far below, always forced to look up at both them and the Sun. I don’t think I’d ever really see anything wrong with that, to be honest? But apparently we definitely used to, and apparently, Prospit thought themselves as much higher beings than we were.”

“So, anyway, we started a war. I say ‘we’, but I wasn’t around for that time. Almost none of us were, I think. Maybe ten, twenty of us? The Condesce, for sure, but only a handful of others that are still around or alive. The Condesce’s guard-dog, the Wraith that she kept locked up was, for sure. Maybe the Queen of Vampires... But really, aside from that? There’s almost nobody who even remembers that time. I mean, obviously we remember it, because it’s etched deep into our very existence.. But there’s nobody who was actually there that’s still around, or at least nobody who wants to talk about it.”

“Whatever. Point is, we beat Prospit. Really, really hard. They’re what you guys could probably consider Angels, but really, they weren’t that much better than us, or even you. They were all about gold and white, trying to act as protectors, especially when you guys entered into the mix, but when it came down to it? They couldn’t even stop the invasion. There was a lot of death. A lot of it. I’m sure you know what Derse is, what it looks like and stuff, ‘cause it’s pretty much your home, now. But Prospit was much different.”

“I should explain a little bit, first. To get from plane to plane, there’s kind of a... Central hub? We call it Skaia, and it’s different for everyone. If you go through a portal, or you get summoned, unless you are being pulled directly somewhere or are trying to get somewhere immediately, you have to go through it. There’s a caretaker, some kind of super-powerful being that regulates the flow, but for the most part doesn’t really get involved in all of it. After Prospit was annihilated, he and the one above him pulled literally everyone out of that realm and forced them back into Derse. Nobody’s been allowed in Prospit ever since.”

“...Uh, are you still awake?”

Your eyes had practically glossed over. As she spoke, the memories came flooding back, though they definitely weren’t even your memories. You breathed softly, slowly taking in the smells around you. The air was fresh and clean, despite your being locked far away from the outside world. You tilted your head, perhaps finding it a bit odd, though with every slow inhalation your mind wanders back to John, over and over, and you can’t quite figure out why..

“Yeah, I’m awake. This is kind of a lot to take in. You’re pretty shit at telling stories, you know?” It was a sarcastic quip, barely even an insult, and you knew she wouldn’t be phased. You shift yourself upwards, stretching the taut muscles within your spine and shoulders, cracking slowly as you glanced around. Light had started to filter in through the window, despite curtains being drawn to prevent that exact thing. A hand came to gently run through your hair, head shaking as you lost yourself in thought yet again.

“Sorry. You said Prospit was different, right?”

She smiled, wide, probably glad that you were actually listening. In truth, you really weren’t, but with every word, more and more thoughts flooded into your mind, more memories that obviously weren’t yours, but still managed to make themselves known in the plethora of other thoughts currently rampaging about.

“Derse is pretty much an island on a sea of lava. It’s really hot at the bottom, and really cold at the top. Prospit, on the other hand... It’s like an open field, I guess? Grass and rolling hills for as far as you can see, and I’m sure like Derse, it’s practically endless. The Green Sun doesn’t filter out all the color on Prospit like it does on Derse, but instead just amplified it, making it seem green and alive, and all the people there wore bright colors. They called it a Rebellion, you know? That the Dersites rose against the Prospitians, clambered in from a hellscape to take a land that was far greater than anything they could have imagined for themselves.”

She laughed, leaning back against a tree and stretching herself out. She took a slow inhalation, smoke coming from her lips as she exhaled, a bright teal color. She had been moving, apparently, and found an area where only a little bit of sunlight was still assaulting her presence. She looked tired, almost pitiful, and if it weren’t for the fact that only a few hours ago she had tried to horrifically murder you, you might have felt bad for her.

“A rebellion. We were their symbol, splotched with horrid black blood from our fallen brothers and sisters, corrupting the emblem in itself. We made special care to not cover the sun, though, some kind of metaphor I’m sure, but I don’t really care for things like that. At the end of the day, at the end of the thousand years or however long the war lasted - probably nowhere near that long, actually - they were gone. Even when the supposed ‘Creator’ himself showed up, he vanished without a trace. That’s the only bit we’re not really sure of, as it might just be rumor, because... Killing the Creator, right? Hah.” She shrugged, then sighed.

“So, I hope that at least gives you a little bit of insight as to the stuff you’re seeing, or gonna start seeing.” She sets her phone down, leaning against something unseeable though it’s angled so that you can still see her face at an odd angle. She crosses her arms, glancing off in another direction. “So. That’s my end of the bargain, unless you have something else you want to add in? I’m sure you do, because so far, both of you Striders have been really, really rude.”

“Yeah. I have something else to add.” You force yourself to a standing position, smelling the air yet again. Where before it was only the scent of a gentle breeze, the slow and careful smell of something that almost reminded you of mint, now the air was tainted. There was a stench of mechanics, as if a piece of machinery had nearly set itself ablaze while trying to run in a way it was not supposed to. It was familiar, almost nostalgic in nature, and though you were sure it should have alarmed you, you knew exactly what you were smelling.

You glance down at your phone once more, giving your finger a quick snap to get her attention. Her bright blue-green aura shined into the phone, making it hard to see anything aside from the predatory glow of her empty eyes as a smile formed upon her lips. You gave her a small nod, and in return she gave one in response, before your lips parted once more to speak.

“You said you had a place to meet up, right?”

* * *

**== > Be the Teal Contractor**

“Before Derse and Prospit collided, there was always an uneasy peace between the two. Some say that the very minute the gates between the two realms opened, the hellfires of Derse and the blinding light of Prospit clashed in a horrid inferno, almost entirely destroying the Median. Skaia, or, I suppose you guys call it Purgatory, isn’t exactly what you think. It’s a hub to Derse and Prospit, sure, at least you guys know that much, but that’s about all you get right. There are ways to lead yourself into either of the two main realms, but Skaia is also a crossroads for many, many other worlds.”

The building you were in had long since been abandoned, with walls that had cracked and doorframes that had all but collapsed on themselves. When Dave had asked if you had a place to meet up, you realized that you didn’t know the city at all, let alone where anything would be in it. You opted to meet somewhere you both could recognize, before dragging him off to a remote location. If you were going to talk to him about Derse and Prospit, you were going to need a while of privacy.

“You’re saying there’s like, what, a million other places other than Heaven and Hell and Earth?” His words echoed in the air for a minute, and you grit your rows of pointed teeth against each other, grinding them together. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know anything that even a new demonspawn would know, though you were moderately sure his brother took to it much better than he did.

“No, no, there’s really not that many worlds. Okay, well, there is, but most of them have been abandoned since long before most of us can remember. Even Prospit in all it’s sickening, righteous glory is abandoned now, with only Derse and a few other worlds still really remaining. I suppose you wanna know why your so-called ‘Heaven’ is abandoned, right? Well, the short answer is that God’s dead, or maybe he never really existed to begin with, and all of his angels left with him.”

That seemed to shut him up, at least for the time being, though by the look on his face you could definitely tell that wasn’t the end of that discussion. You fold your leg over the other, leaning back on a crate you had positioned yourself on. The boy in front of you seemed almost pathetic in nature, and you almost scoff after you remember the sheer power he had managed to harness when he needed it. You tilt your head, closing your eyes in thought, causing the room to dull from lack of light.

“See, before my time, and a long, long while before your time, there was a war. Nobody really knows who initiated the first attack, but we know for sure who ended it. I can’t tell you much about how Prospit managed its people, or even how they fought the war, but the Elders never shut up about it, so I can at least tell you about that for sure. Prospit fought for glory and to be some form of ‘divine protectors’, which I’m sure you can see how well that worked out… But Derse, we were vicious, fought tooth and nail, essentially for survival. “

Your mouth opened, stopped short as you forced yourself to think. It was true that the elder demons always talked about the war, always went on and on about the great heroes and veterans who served within, but after a while, you just toned it out. An arm crossed your chest, other hand moving to drag a spectral claw alongside the crate you were upon. You tilted your head to one side, then nodded. This was probably going to take a while.

“From what they say, every single able demon… Which means every demon, I guess... Was forced to join up and fight, and if it hadn’t been that way, maybe Prospit would have won. History isn’t built on what-ifs and maybes, though, so when the smoke and the fire and mayhem stopped, only one side was left remaining, or so most of us think. The Godlings, the angels, sealed off Prospit, and for a long, long time, they managed to seal off Skaia as well. Just look around, smell the air and take it in. You’re demon enough to be able to feel that between me, you, and the soul in my pocket, we make up almost half of the demons on the planet right now.”

Vriska’s soul flared for a moment, practically burning a hole in your jacket’s pocket. You smirked, giving it a gentle pat of reassurance, which seemed to, just for a moment, calm it down. She’d be close to reforming entirely by now if she would just stop expending all her energy in trying to communicate through only her soul, but you suppose it was probably for the better. She wouldn’t like the plan you were coming up with, regardless.

“There was also the thing with that monster the Archdemons released, but they fixed it in the end, I guess. That’s not really worth going into right now, but remind me and I’ll tell you all about it sometime. As for the rest of us, there’s two or three more out there snooping around, technically more if you count Rose and yourself.”

“Archdemons,” Dave repeated, eyes flickering with a glowing red aura for just a moment. Leaning up against the wall, spattered in dried blood and gore, you couldn’t help notice that he didn’t have a hint of emotion upon his face as he listened. “Aside from the fact you keep calling me a demon, and at this point I don’t know or care about that, there’s... More?”

“Yeah, I’m saying there’s more. You can feel it, can’t you? Might have to help you tap into that later, since you’ve got a lot of magic and it’s kind of dumb that you can’t even use it properly.” You snickered, leaning forwards and sticking your tongue out. “Anyway, back in Derse, the ‘Elders’ are made up of twelve demons all representing a different caste. They usually cover a pretty broad area, but they’re important to know about, because if the portals are starting to open back up, you’re probably gonna run into a couple of them. What do you do if you do happen to meet one? Hope they’re in a good mood, and pray to your dead God that it’s not the Queen.”

Dave’s expression lit up for a minute at your last sentence, eyes widening as if he were thinking of some horrific, eldritch abomination of a God, hellbent on severing everything he had ever held near or dear. In reality, that wouldn’t be too far off from how the Queen acted, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him just how right he probably was.

“Okay, so, listen up, ‘cause there’s a lot to go on here. We’ll start with Karkat, who is technically in charge of the rage demons. The name doesn’t make a lot of sense, because he technically encompasses demons that run off of specific emotions, but there you go. He’s a grouch, made even more so since the original elder died, but Kankri was really the only thing keeping Karkat in check anyway. He’s usually on fire, and he screams, but he’s got little nub horns so he’s really easy to pick out of a crowd.”

“Aradia is in charge of the ghosts and banshees, but they barely exist anyway. They’re one of the few demons who can actually merge in between worlds without need of portals, but they don’t really exert demonic energy, or do much at all, for that matter. The previous elder, Damara... Well, just forget I said anything about her. She’s a Storm Wight, and if you see her, we’re probably already dead, anyway. She’s been sealed away since I was young, so she’s not important.”

“Storm Wight?” The words left his mouth almost as soon as you finished the sentence, but you held a hand up to silence him. You had a lot more to go through, and even though you were sure he had questions, you had to get the thoughts off your mind as quick as you could.

“Tavros is in charge of the beasts, but not the Lycans. He takes on the aspect of a bull, but you would never guess it from looking at him. Most demons have transformative powers, the ability to turn themselves into real monsters, sans a few, but Tavros takes that to a whole new level. Honestly, though, you’d think he was a human with how nice he is. Rufioh, the elder before him, died in the Great War, but he’s treated essentially as a war hero. Anyone who remembers him only ever talks about how amazing he was. Pity he’s dead, I guess.”

“Sollux leads the psionics, which is the sect of demons that have greater control of their psychic powers than the rest. They make up an odd bunch, pulling people from other castes into theirs to hone their abilities, but it’s all for the best. He’s got a bit of a dual personality going on, but he’s definitely one of the stronger demons in Derse. Mituna, well, if anyone from the War should be treated as a hero, it’s him. It’s a little iffy about what happened, but everyone at least agrees that if it wasn’t for him and his whole heroic, explosive sacrifice, we’d have probably lost.”

“Nepeta leads the lycans. Yes, werewolves, except she’s a feline of some sort. Lycans are made up of more than just werewolves and stuff that you’re familiar with, but aren’t really limited when it comes to the animals you can be. Generally you transform into whatever would fit your personality better, but with a bit of effort, you can transform into just about anything. Meulin was the elder before her, and, surprise surprise, she was also a cat. There’s not a lot of information about her, but there were rumors about her being a spy while the war was going on. Nothing concrete, though.”

“Eridan’s the leader of the first sea-dwelling caste, which are essentially walking fish.” That comment alone got a laugh out of him, probably just the mental image alone. “Yeah, you laugh now, but he’s essentially a landshark with a worse attitude and a rifle that shoots beams of demonic energy. That caste doesn’t really exist anymore, and we only get rare inklings that they even care to remember us. See, Derse is an island that is much bigger than even your entire planet, but surrounding it is a sea of lava. Eridan took his boat and fucked off into it. No, I’m not joking. The elder before him was Cronus, but uh, I think we’d all prefer to forget about Cronus.”

“The Queen is next, I guess, and she’s also a Sea Dweller. You’d never guess it, since she lives in this huge castle of ice on the very top of Derse. She’s the only one of her caste, even though there are demons of the same type, because she kills anyone who has the royal bloodline the minute they even come into existence. She’s ruled over Derse since the war ended and the Archdemons were all sealed away, and she’s, by far, the strongest single demon in... Anywhere, probably. Look, if you meet her, just run. There’s really no winning against her.”

You let your own face drop in emotion, glaring over to Dave with the spectral flair. You had long since pulled off your glasses, set them aside to reveal the blank hollows that shined with an eerie, ghostlike glow. If he was unnerved, scared by your true appearance, he didn’t show it, instead merely kept his gaze low and solemn. Perhaps the reality of what he was dealing with was starting to set in.

“Porrim leads the vampires, and as luck would have it, her second in command just so happens to have been pulled onto Earth. Close your eyes and feel the air, smell the blood and smoke in the air, take it in, because that’s everything Kanaya is. She’s smooth and gentle, charming to the point where she’s hauntingly beautiful, and terrifying to a point that knows no bounds. For everything she is, however, Porrim is doubly so. I don’t like talking about her, because it always feels like she’s lurking in my shadow, just waiting and watching like the rest of her ilk do.” An actual shiver goes down your spine, causing you to wrap both arms around your chest. “Let’s just move on.”

“There’s actually two castes when it comes to the type of demon I am. See, I’m pretty strong, and I guess you could call me the second in command, but only for the Contract caste. Vriska is part of the assassin caste, and as luck would have it, is also the leader. The difference between the two is simple mentality, where her caste is more vicious and bloodthirsty and happy to accept just for the kill. My caste, however, demands a price. Latula, the elder for the Contractors, is pretty cool, but you’re definitely going to meet her at some point, so don’t worry about it too much.”

“The last caste barely exists at all, but not in the same way as Eridan’s. Kurloz, the elder, is probably one of the only remaining Tricksters in all of Derse, or anywhere, for that matter, but he doesn’t hang around Derse. He’s obscenely powerful, and if the Queen is the most powerful demon in Derse, then he’s the most powerful in all the other worlds. He’s got all kinds of freaky powers and gimmicks, and supposedly he’s able to pass into the other worlds at will, but that’s all just rumors. He’s just a weirdo, if you ask me.”

“Anyway, I think that’s it for the castes and potential demon threats. I know it’s a lot to take in, but did you have any questions, Dave?”

He stopped for a long while, eyes shut in thought with both hands in his pockets. His breathing was slow and precise, almost forced as he lost himself in thought, taking in everything you had told him. Most of it probably wouldn’t be relevant if he didn’t act fast, but given the nature of him and his brother, they were going to have to take a while to lick their wounds. You furrow your brow, glancing up to him to find his eyes locked onto your soulless, teal orbs of light.

“I’ve just got one question, Terezi.” He sighed, pushing himself off the wall, holding a hand up and beckoning you forwards. Before you could even get up, he had made his way outside, into the blistering sunlight which had appeared incredibly quickly. The bustle of the city had already started to pick up, a hundred thousand people blissfully unaware of just how terrible things were about to become.

“How do we win?”

* * *

**== > Be the Struggling Optimist**

Your mother had always told you to try your best to stay positive, to smile early and often, to make the best out of a bad situation. You had always tried to fill your life with things that made you happy, and after you came into your finance, had found it easier and easier to do exactly that. Recently, however, things were starting to become much more difficult, almost impossible, to even put a single smirk upon your lips.

Being awake this early in the morning without a single hour of sleep probably wasn’t helping your mood any, but given your best friend had just died, gotten back up, then shoved your car into a ditch by simply jumping out, you supposed that you had an excuse to feel like this. Your hands shoved into your jacket’s pocket, thumb fiddling gently against your phone’s screen as your legs carried you forwards towards some unknown destination. You slowly shut your eyes against the rising sun, before your entire hand grasped your phone.

You pulled yourself to lean against a wall, one leg arched to put a foot against it higher up. Tapping open PesterChum, you scroll through your list of names, scowling as your finger lands on golgothasTerror. You shouldn’t be mad at him, and you almost realize that, but you can’t bring yourself to even let him enter your mind. Instead, you keep going, stopping short as turntechGodhead and timaeusTestified line themselves up side by side.

Your tongue flicked out, running across your lips as you stared at the two names, before something in the back of your mind caused you to shiver. Eyes slowly moved to the side, finding the status of the Strider brothers, with one in particular causing your blood to run cold. Beside of timaeusTestified, instead of it showing that he had been offline for however long since his death, it showed him as being online. For a moment, it felt as if the world was going to crash down around you, the weight that had apparently been set on your shoulders for a brief time being too much, though you quickly regained yourself. Your thumb gently tapped his name, opening the messenger, and for once, you were at a loss for words.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT].

TG: dirk

TG: are you there and also not dead

TG: because i could really stand to know what the frick just happened back there you know

TG: you were dead and then you werent and also i think you wrecked my car

Your eyes gloss over your phone for a moment far too long, though there is no initial response. Your eyes slowly come to a rest as the sun crests upwards, finding a perfect path to shine directly into your eyes. You inhale through your nose, taking in what little clean air you can find, crossing your free arm over your chest. Tears well up in your eyes once more, but you force them back, already tired of crying. Your finger slides upwards, turning your phone off before shoving it into your pocket once more.

You’d have to find a different mechanic, the thought lingers upon your mind. Dirk usually did all your repair work, and even though you knew a few other people, you absolutely hated asking anyone but him to do it for you. You push off the wall, and for a moment find yourself unable to force your feet to move another step. People had started walking by, giving their ‘excuse me’s and other such greetings, but none of it mattered to you, not now, and probably not ever.

Your phone vibrated, signalling that you had potentially received a message, and before you even realized what you were doing, you had it in your hand, the Pesterchum conversation already open on your screen. Your eyes scanned downwards, finding whatever it could have been that was sent to you, just to find a horribly disappointing, almost gut-wrenching message.

timaeusTestified [TT] is now an idle chum!

Your fingers clutch tightly around your phone, and for a moment everything in your body screams at you to just throw it to the ground, to forget about all your worries and lock yourself away for the rest of eternity. Your life had gone from at least relatively decent to absolutely and utterly horrific in the span of only a few hours, and the more you thought about it, the less it seemed that there was anything even remotely redeemable left. You sigh, finding yourself back against the wall you had just pushed off of, sliding down into a sitting position as you stared at your phone. Your body wracked with grief for a moment, finding yourself sobbing, people walking by and only giving so much as a passing glance, a pitiful comment here or there. After what seemed like eternity, however, you felt your phone vibrate once more. You glance down, expecting to find Dave or someone else sending you a message, but the words on your screen left your blood cold.

timaeusTestified [TT] is no longer an idle chum!

TT: Roxy.

TT: We need to find a place to meet up.

TT: There’s a lot we need to talk about, and you’re not going to like any of it.


End file.
